


running with the wolves

by wooziya



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Gangs, Hate to Love, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, THINGS WILL BE HAPPY IT'S ALL GOOD, look everybody loves soon ok he deserves the absolute best in this, soonyoung is on the run from Very Bad People, svt are a bunch of troubled kids who really just look out for each other, things won't be so heavy i promise pls trust me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-06-21 20:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15566190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wooziya/pseuds/wooziya
Summary: Soonyoung doesn't remember the last time anyone's treated him with kindness like this. He shouldn't trust it - he knows it won't end well, because when does it ever? - but he's tired from all the running and hiding and lying.( soonyoung is a runaway, but he's not the only one.)





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> \- This will be a long one because I'm not very good at making things short. Welp.  
> \- Warnings for references to alcohol and to some past sexual harassment/abuse, past child abuse. They are subtly mentioned but I must still warn! The current events of the fic, however, will be free of such violence.  
> \- I am also a sucker for the hate to love trope!! uwu  
> \- I made a twitter for all kinds of fics and svt stuff! follow me for updates or to talk to me about soonhoon n_n @JLHOOZI  
> \- Thank you for choosing to read this~ Please leave kudos/comments if you'd like to see more of this fic! <3

It was the revving of an engine that woke Soonyoung up, face down on the ground underneath the bleachers where he could feel the vibrations against his soon-to-be-bruised cheek. Instinct had him sit up straight, hugging his duffel bag to his chest as if it were a newborn, and the overflow of paranoia infecting his thoughts dried his throat, sending the hair on the back of his neck standing.

Surely – not here, not out of the blue, not _now_.

He moved into a crouch as quietly as he could, ready to get up and run at any given moment. The football pitch beyond the bleachers was almost entirely pitch-black, save for the flash of headlights and the sleek shine reflecting off a navy-blue car.

A sigh of relief escaped him. He didn't recognise it. One less worry.

Soonyoung watched as a figure climbed out of the driver’s side and slammed the door shut behind him. He was short man dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and black jeans. Another got out of the passenger side. This one was was taller, with piercings lining his left ear and his long limbs drowning under an orange padded jacket.

Another sigh of relief rumbled deep from his stomach. No suit, no obnoxious sunglasses. Nothing familiar.

He crept closer, eyes alert as the shorter boy took out a cigarette from his back pocket. The one in the orange jacket moved around the car, holding out a lighter for him. A grunt of thanks and a lengthy inhale later, the passenger cleared his throat.

“That was too much of a close call. Even for you,” he said. His soft voice surprised Soonyoung – they both looked like trouble, and trouble didn’t speak in gentle tones without wanting something to come out of it.

With a shrug of his shoulder, the driver looked up to his friend and blew out a puff of smoke in his face. “I was wondering which one of you would be the unlucky one to give me the lecture,” he mused. He paused, taking another inhale of poison. “Funny it’d be you, Jisoo. I didn’t peg you as one to have a problem with what I did tonight.”

The latter – Jisoo, Soonyoung noted – let out a heavy sigh. “You could’ve killed someone.”

The shorter man snorted. Soonyoung was busy turning their conversation in his head like a coin between his fingers. Their voices were steady and firm, not panicked and worried. Whatever supposed violence had been committed tonight, it sounded like it had been nothing new.

“ _Jihoon_ ,” Jisoo pleaded.

The one called Jihoon turned his body to face his friend. With another shrug, he took another puff of smoke. Soonyoung frowned as if he could smell it from where he was hiding; he wasn’t a big fan of cigarettes.

“I didn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. The idiot that laid a hand on Seungkwan had a filthy mouth. I simply intervened before it had the chance to dirty us all.”

“If Seungcheol hadn’t been there to stop it –“

“I am beginning to find this talk incredibly boring and useless,” Jihoon interrupted in his deadpan voice.

Soonyoung found himself wanting to know, wanting to hear more, of the details of what happened. What Jihoon did, who Seungkwan was and who had laid a hand on him. The violence sounded familiar.

“You could’ve gotten caught and taken away again,” Jisoo groaned. The firm grimace staining his lips didn’t suit him, Soonyoung decided. “They will lock you up for good.”

Jihoon was apparently unbothered by Jisoo’s words. He simply rolled his eyes. “Good thing they won’t find out, then. You’re all welcome, by the way.”

Jisoo was resigned when he said, “Stop being impossible, Jihoon.”

“I’m doing nothing at all, Jisoo.”

Shaking his head, the soft-spoken boy shook his head. “Seungcheol wants you to apologise.”

With a sarcastic laugh, Jihoon took one, two, three inhales and exhales of his cigarette before throwing it onto the floor, crushing it beneath his shoe. “I live to disappoint the man and all his disciples, it seems.” He paused. “But I guess if you really want me to play nice, you will let me get into my car alone and drive away.”

“Seriously?” Jisoo scoffed. “How am I supposed to get home?”

Jihoon stared at his friend with indifference. “You have legs.”

“You know what,” Jisoo replied, hands gesturing in frustration. “Fine. Go cool off. Just remember that I am the only one who stuck up for you after what you did tonight.”

Jihoon bent down at the waist to give him a mock bow. He even ducked his head for effect but once he lifted it, Soonyoung could see the hint of a cold, unbothered smile. “My hero, Hong Jisoo.”

Soonyoung watched as Jisoo clenched a fist and shoved it into one of his jacket pockets. The boy’s jaw ticked as he stared at Jihoon’s figure retreating into his car. When it sped off, he was left alone.

There was a part of Soonyoung that pitied him while the other parts felt inevitable disappointment at the lack of details he managed to hear from their conversation. But soon, he started to feel guilty for eavesdropping at all.

He had gotten caught once, eavesdropping into one of his foster parents’ conversations. They’d been suffering from a series of problems bouncing from money to jobs, to the lack of food in the fridge, to the man the wife had been seeing behind her husband’s back. They’d found Soonyoung lingering on the stairs and sentenced him to a lecture on manners and a cane to the lack of his knees. They weren’t his favourite pair, if he remembered. Which he barely did – barely even _wanted_ to remember – but he remembered the punishment of knowing too much.

He shook his head to clear away the memories. Just then, he heard approaching footsteps crunching the fake grass of the pitch. They were moving closer towards him, sending his thoughts and panic into sudden overdrive.

He stood up from his crouch, careful not to hit his head on the bottom of the seats, and inched backwards slowly. He was gripping onto his bag hard enough to lose feeling in his knuckles, but he had to be ready to make a run for it.

When Jisoo stopped just before him, the seats separating him from Soonyoung, he surprised the latter by smiling. “Hello,” he said, in that terribly soft voice of his.

Soonyoung swallowed his anxiety. He feared being confronted. It’d been a long time since he was last approached by anyone. _Stick to the shadows and stay quiet_. That was his motto. That was what his safety and his life counted on.

“Have you been there this whole time?” Jisoo asked. Soonyoung was surprised yet again to find that there was no malice, no anger in his tone.

When Soonyoung didn’t reply, Jisoo continued. “Do you…want to come out of there? I could use some company.”

If Soonyoung didn’t have his wits about him, he’d have taken up the other’s offer in a heartbeat. But he’d long since learned not to be so naïve, especially with strangers. He shook his head as his reply, which Jisoo seemed to find funny because he tilted his head back and let out a small laugh.

“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll stay though, if that’s alright with you?”

No one had ever asked Soonyoung if it was _alright_ with him when they did something. The people in his past often took from him without asking and he’d had no choice but to give. At one point, it granted him satisfaction to do so. But now he had many regrets.

He nodded hesitantly. Jisoo smiled at him before stepping closer to the bleachers, close enough for Soonyoung to see the silver chain with a guitar pick dangling from it poking out of his oversized jacket.

“I’m Jisoo,” he started, “but if you’ve been here a while, I think you might have already heard of me.”

Shame suddenly burned Soonyoung’s cheeks. He’d been caught. “Sorry,” he mumbled, finally using his voice. He cleared his throat, letting his fingers loosen from the straps of his bag. “I just overheard – I didn’t. Mean...to – you know.”

“It’s fine,” Jisoo said, smiling. He meant it, and Soonyoung just stared at him. “You won’t tell on us, will you?”

“I have no one to tell,” Soonyoung whispered, an ache springing from his chest at his own words.

Jisoo nodded at this. “What’s your name?”

He knew he should give one of his fake names. Even one of his nicknames would be okay. His favourite had always been _Hoshi_ , but he’d also been Jooheon, Minhyuk, Taewoon. His real name was Kwon Soonyoung, but he hadn’t been called that in such a long, long time.

Which is probably why he chose to give it to Jisoo. Soft-spoken, soft-looking Jisoo. He just wanted to hear it again, honestly, entertaining the thought of it rolling off Jisoo’s tongue.

“Soonyoung,” he said in a shaky exhale.

A weight lifted from his chest. It was a fleeting, light comfort unfamiliar to him. He itched to run but he also itched to stay. There were no warning bells going off in his head yet, however.

Jisoo hummed in acknowledgement. “Soonyoung.” And the latter had been right – he knew it would sound heavenly in Jisoo’s voice, and it did and he wanted to hear it again.

He blushed furiously, grateful to have the cover of night and the bleacher’s shadows hide his embarrassing satisfaction.

“Have you been sleeping here?” Jisoo asked.

“A couple nights." 

 _Two weeks_ , he didn't say. He’d been alternating between sneaking into the changing rooms and in the showers, sleeping on cold tiles, and the bleachers. One was for when it rained, the other for bearable warm weather. And though it hasn’t been the most comfortable hideout he'd been in, he was grateful for the solace of the school. No one had come to look for him so far. And until now, no one had seen him or cared. No one had known he’d existed in this tiny, faraway town.

“It doesn’t look very comfortable.”

“It’s better than nothing,” he mutters, wishing he could come up with funnier remarks to impress Jisoo. The thought that he wanted to impress the other at all annoyed him, but this situation didn’t feel so dangerous to him. Jihoon, yes. But Jisoo – he was different. He seemed _kind_.

Jisoo eyed him for a moment. “Why?”

Soonyoung shrugged, not sure how to answer. Apart from the truth, there wasn’t much to say. Telling someone he was on the run from people who ran things a lot like a mafia family was sure to send someone running. It sounded ridiculous, if anything. Ridiculous to outsiders who, Soonyoung was sure as it was always the case, didn’t understand him or his background or just how cruel the world was.

“Things are difficult at home,” he finally dragged out. At least it wasn’t an entire lie, just an inkling of one. He didn’t have a home anymore, but things _were_ difficult about his situation.

“I see,” Jisoo said, nodding in what looked like understanding. After a few seconds, he smiled a small smile. “Well. I hope you won’t find me rude or awfully forward for asking you this, but…do you want to come home with me?”

Soonyoung’s mouth dropped in surprise. It was a sudden offer – one he wasn’t sure what to think of. He found himself wondering what Jisoo’s home looked like, where he lived, if he lived alone. Was it a loaded offer? Was he expecting a sort of payment or debt, like the others always did? Was he playing a prank?

Was he as cruel as everyone else?

Soonyoung had been the punchline of too many cruel jokes in his life to appreciate such kindness without questioning it. The doubt was embedded in his nature.

As if he could see the emotions and conflict warring on Soonyoung’s face, Jisoo added, “I’m just offering a bed for the night or two. Nothing else. It will be better than sleeping on gravel, at least.”

“Why?” Soonyoung spluttered, furiously shaking his head. “Why are you being kind to me? You don’t even know me.”

“True.” Jisoo smiled. “But kindness isn’t just given to people you know – it’s spread. And I think you could use a little kindness, Soonyoung.”

 

Jisoo lived in a big house. Soonyoung gaped at the sight of it.

No,  _house_ was not enough to describe it.

The boy lived in a mansion.

A building erected tall and wide and covered in red bricks and ivy vines stood before him. It was like anything he’d ever seen or stayed in before. Suddenly, the many apartments he’d been moved around seemed puny and unimportant compared to this. There was a large courtyard, a fountain in the middle of the small garden, and steps leading up to large, black double doors.

When Jisoo had led Soonyoung down the tree-lined road, he hadn’t expected _this_  to be at the end of it.

“It’s not mine,” Jisoo explained once he led the both of them through the massive black gate. “It’s a friend’s.”

“A friend’s,” Soonyoung echoed. He felt the slivers of panic crawling along his skin.

“Seungcheol is nice, don't worry,” the other boy hummed. Soonyoung briefly remembered the name from the conversation Jisoo had had with Jihoon. Someone who disapproved of Jihoon’s actions, whatever they had been.

Swallowing his thoughts, Soonyoung nodded. “It’s very big for two people to live in.”

Jisoo let out a laugh, voice ringing in Soonyoung’s ears like musical bells. “Try twelve of us.”

“ _Twelve_.” Soonyoung was starting to breathe heavily now. Panic sent his stomach hurling. He could handle Jisoo – he was soft and quiet and didn’t seem to be out to give Soonyoung any trouble. But any others? He wasn’t sure how he could cope.

He’d lived with families of five and six before, but never more than that. He had found those families particularly overbearing and obnoxious. But now five and six didn’t seem like such large numbers compared to _twelve_.

Jisoo turned his head over his shoulder to smile at him. Soonyoung gaped at him, eyes darting back and forth from the boy to the house. “We don’t bite.”

Soonyoung felt his skin crawl with electricity and fear. “Right.” He swallowed, hand fisted around the straps of his duffel bag. He felt inadequate with it and his ratty old outfit - one he’s owned for years – in front of Jisoo and his friend’s house. He was a rat – he didn’t belong in this lavish setting. This was surely a joke.

“You won’t even have to talk to anyone,” Jisoo assured him. “I can take you up to my room and you can settle in. Shower, if you’d like. I’ll lay out some clothes for you to borrow, too.”

Soonyoung briefly wondered where Jisoo would be sleeping if he was to take his bed. If they would be sharing it, if Jisoo’s bed smelled as gentle as his personality radiated.

“Thank you,” he muttered, uncertain of how else to convey it.

When they reached the doors, Jisoo held it open for him to pass through. The inside foyer was as phenomenal as the house’s exterior. A massive chandelier hovered over the spacious room. Beneath it, a balcony overlooked stairs on either side of the gigantic room. Everything was a pale shade of pearl and beige and rose quartz marble. A table in the middle of the bottom floor was decorated with a flower pot and a bowl of decorative rocks to match the walls. There were also five doors around Soonyoung, and too much space in between them.

Jisoo was truly a person of this house for he didn’t even bat an eyelash. Soonyoung felt as if he was going to lose his mind just staring at the island table.

He didn’t belong here, and it showed. But he couldn’t help himself from admiring it – from feeling pangs of envy and longing and jealousy.

“The kitchen is there,” Jisoo started, pointing to the first door on Soonyoung’s right, “and it’s always stocked. If you need anything, you’re welcome to help yourself.”

Soonyoung’s stomach thundered at the sound of _kitchen_. If this house was as beautiful and fancy as it was, how was the kitchen? How was the food?

He couldn't remember the last time he had a proper meal.

Jisoo explained the four other doors. The door after the kitchen was the living room. Following that was the library, which he joked was mostly for decoration. The fourth door was a studio, but he didn’t explain what kind or whose it was. And then the last door belonged to the garage, where they kept their cars and bikes.

Soonyoung wanted to throw up, but his stomach was empty and there was nothing to give but his stomach itself. Everything about the house and Jisoo screamed _money_. In loud, blaring letters. An impossible life. One he'd once been a part of - the one that had broken him and left his world to burn to ashes.

But he couldn't think about that now. He'd start panicking, and then he'd lose himself. And he didn't want that. At least, not with Jisoo keeping an eye on him.

“I’ll show you upstairs,” Jisoo chimed. “A few of us, myself included, were lucky enough to win at rock, paper, scissors for the single rooms, so you’ll be safe away from everyone. The others share a room.”

Soonyoung nodded as Jisoo led him up the incredibly polished stairs, his hand tracing the curve of the bannister. “Lucky me,” he whispered. 

There were three corners splitting the upper floor once they got to the top. On their way through the maze, Soonyoung counted six doors in total. So far. There was one hallway they hadn’t yet explored that Jisoo led them away from.

Jisoo’s own room was found in the furthest right hallway. When they got to the door, Jisoo leaned on the wall beside it and smiled down at Soonyoung.

“Make yourself at home. I have to talk to Seungcheol real quick, but I’ll be back to get you some clothes and, oh, Jeonghan!”

Jisoo’s eyes drifted away from him to something behind Soonyoung, his doe eyes wide and brightening at whatever had surprised him.

Soonyoung cautiously turned to find another tall, lanky figure with messy russet hair. His eyes were big like Jisoo’s, his eyelashes long. High cheekbones accentuated the lines of his face. He had a nice smile, too.

“When did you get in?” the boy – Jeonghan – asked Jisoo, his smile never leaving his face.

“Just now,” Jisoo answered. “What are you doing still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Who’s this?”

Soonyoung’s eyes darted to his feet at the new pair of eyes sizing him up. His skin started heating up but luckily, Jisoo replied. “This is Soonyoung. He was at the school and he needed a place to stay.”

“Hm,” Jeonghan hummed, taking in the information as if it were nothing. “I’m Jeonghan.”

Soonyoung looked up then, knowing it was impolite to ignore an introduction. “Nice to meet you,” he muttered.

Jisoo addressed him again. “Go in and put your bag down. I’ll be back, okay?”

Soonyoung nodded, opening Jisoo’s door. He let the door close behind him, not looking back. Before it locked, he heard Jeonghan’s voice in a muffled sigh say, “missed you”, and Jisoo’s soft voice reply, “I’m home now.”

Soonyoung dropped his duffel bag on top of the bed and stood in the middle of Jisoo’s room, taking it all in. It was uncluttered and far too clean. He had little decoration and his walls were bare. It looked half lived-in, half unoccupied. He wasn't sure if he was surprised. He didn't take Jisoo as one to have a room overflowing with a loud personality.

He sat down on the end of the bed, frowning at it all. This had to be a dream. He didn't trust himself to enjoy such fortune so easily.

Such a wicked, wonderful dream.

 

Soonyoung woke up in a sweat not long after he’d settled down to sleep.

Jisoo had given him a fresh set of pajamas and left him to shower and sleep two hours ago, according to the clock beside the bed. It was now three in the morning.

It had been the most comfortable night of his life, and yet he couldn't enjoy any of it. Not when it was dead quiet, no rumble of cars and howling wind to sing him to sleep. Not when Jisoo’s bed felt like a cloud, and he was in heaven, and the boy’s shower was enough to fit fourteen Soonyoungs.

Though he had gotten comfort handed to him on a silver platter, there was so much that was unfamiliar to him that it felt _wrong_. He’d tossed and turned in the silk sheets for hours before giving up, distrusting of the pleasure he felt.

He threw off the covers and walked around the room. When he didn’t find anything of interest – Jisoo was a very plain person, he decided – he left the room.

All was quiet in the wide hallways, and Soonyoung disliked it. The house was too big and there was too little noise – it didn’t fit, it didn’t feel right. He wasn't used to any of it at all.

He made it downstairs without making any noise; he was good at that, staying quiet. He remembered the door Jisoo had said led to the kitchen and let himself in.

But he wasn’t alone.

Jihoon. _Jihoon_ , of all the people he could have met in this house, was sat on one of the island counter's stools, a book open in one hand and a short glass of clear liquid filled to the brim in the other. A glass bottle of what looked to be vodka sat beside his arm.

When he heard the door open, he was mid-sip. He raised a brow, and Soonyoung’s first urge was to run.

But he couldn’t, not when Jihoon was holding his gaze, rough surprise flickering in his eyes. Soonyoung knew who he was, but he didn’t know who Soonyoung was. And the latter couldn’t run now. The door was slow to shut behind him, and he was rooted to the spot.

Jihoon looked around him carefully, eyeing Soonyoung for one more moment before letting his eyes roam the kitchen. When he turned his attention back to him, he let out a mocking whistle of relief. “Oh good, I was under the impression that I was in the wrong house for a second there. But it turns out - _ha!_ \- that’s not me, that’s _you_.”

Soonyoung clammed up before he could reply. Jihoon eyed him up and down, and though Soonyoung was wearing a pair of Jisoo’s cotton pajamas, he felt once again inadequate. This time, however, because of Jihoon’s towering presence.

He remembered the other boy’s cold demeanor, his indifferent tone and constant inhalation his cigarette. That had only been earlier that night – before Jisoo let him into their home. It felt both so long ago and yet not quite.

He should’ve known or guessed that Jihoon was one of the people Jisoo lived with. Why the thought never crossed his mind, he didn’t know. It probably had something to do with his amazement for Jisoo’s kindness and the house distracting him from anything else.

“Sorry,” Soonyoung mumbled, though he wasn’t sure what it was exactly he was apologizing for. Jisoo had said to help himself in the kitchen, and so there he was, trying to look for some peace in a stranger’s house.

“Who are you.” Jihoon demanded, voice quiet but loaded with hostility.

Soonyoung cleared his throat and the clipped answers stumbled out of him. “I’m Soonyoung. Jisoo let me stay. It’s just for one night.”

“Well, isn’t he kind,” deadpanned Jihoon with a lifeless smile. “I didn’t realise we were letting strays into this house. Jisoo’s becoming a bad influence. Seungcheol really _has_ gone crazy.” Soonyoung didn’t grace him with a reply. Even if he planned on it, he didn’t know what to say. His silence must’ve caught Jihoon’s attention because then the boy said, “Seungcheol. Have you met him yet?”

Soonyoung shook his head. “Just Jisoo and Jeonghan.”

“Ah, the troublesome pair. Quite a couple, aren’t they.”

He wasn’t sure what to do with that piece of information exactly, but the memory of Jisoo and Jeonghan’s short and private exchange earlier rang back to him.

“I’m just –“ Soonyoung stammered. Jihoon took another sip of his drink, looking at him over the rim with curious eyes that reminded the former of a predator. “I’m going to go now.”

He wouldn’t be able to sleep after this encounter. A part of him _feared_ Jihoon. Feared what he could do after what he’d heard last night.

“Oh, no, don’t stop on my account,” Jihoon told him, placing his book and drink down. “You snooped down here for a reason. What was it.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Jihoon hummed in response, still not taking his eyes off the other. “Why don’t you take a seat and tell me all about you, then. I’m not a big fan of sleep. You’d be a great way to kill time.”

Soonyoung wasn’t sure he was comfortable talking to Jihoon at all, especially when he radiated fury and coldness. There was something accusing in his usual deadpan voice. It was unusual and entirely unwelcome to Soonyoung.

“I'm going to go,” he repeated, struggling to tear his eyes away from Jihoon’s.

The latter simply stared for a moment longer before turning his attention back to his book. He shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to talk to me, either. Hm. Suit yourself.”

Soonyoung was still, unsure if he was being dismissed. But Jihoon’s eyes were no longer on him, and he should have felt free. He should also make his way back to Jisoo’s room now to force himself to sleep.

But what was taking him so long to do so?

After a while, Jihoon addressed him again, this time downing his glass in one shot. His eyes slid from his book to Soonyoung straight after. “You're still here, stranger?”

That was when Soonyoung realized he was staring. He’d been eyeing Jihoon all this time, gauging the boy for the strength of his anger. If he was still worked up from his conversation with Jisoo earlier. If he was still as violently charged as the latter made him out to be on the football pitch.

He stumbled over excuses and his words before settling on, “what’s your name?” because he’d introduced himself to Jihoon, but the latter was still to make his official acquaintance with him.

It was a while before Jihoon answered. When he did, he dropped his attention from Soonyoung, declaring him unworthy of it. “Jihoon. Now leave.”

Soonyoung did as he was told. He shut the kitchen door behind him carefully, leaning against it for a moment to fix his heartbeat and breaths, before running up the stairs and to Jisoo's room.

His heart was a chaotic, pounding mess in his chest as he flopped onto the bed. The trip to the kitchen hadn’t been enough to satisfy his insomnia. If anything, it made it worse. There was something about the encounter that made Soonyoung think he should be careful. Of Jihoon, of everyone he was still yet to meet.

And yet, not a single thought of running from it all crossed his mind.

Not a single one.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol gives Soonyoung a choice and a chance, and Jihoon is just looking out for his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;AAA; i know this fic isn't anything much just yet and it's a bit slow, but i promise it'll be worth it in the end <33

Morning painted the white walls of Jisoo’s room with dreamy sunlight. Soonyoung was sitting up in bed watching it filter in through the curtains in shades of coral and pearl, the sight of it a strange thing compared to the mornings he’d awoken with the harsh light directly on his face.

It was a reminder that he was safe, that, that in this moment, he was not in danger. The curtains shielded him from the sun, from the outside world. It was another barrier between him and the danger that had kept him awake.

He hadn’t slept at all. Paranoia had pinned him down to Jisoo’s sheets until he was on the verge of a panic attack. He’d only managed to stop one from happening by catching it early, sitting up to put his head between his knees, telling himself to inhale and exhale slowly before it escalated. He hadn’t laid back down again since.

Although he was safe – for now, he reminded himself again and again – there was a part of him that refused to believe it. He hadn’t slept, so if it was all a dream, he wouldn’t be able to tell. And he didn’t dare pinch himself, either. It was a cruel dream he didn’t want to tear himself away from yet.

A knock on the door interrupted him from his thoughts. Jisoo let himself in with a smile, his hair rid of sleep and his eyes bright. “Good morning,” he chirped. “I was wondering if you’d be up for meeting Seungcheol?”

Soonyoung sat up straighter, alert and completely awake despite his lack of sleep. Behind Jisoo entered a tall, angular boy with mussed-up silver hair and long, dark lashes. Tired lines accentuated the sharpness of his cheekbones and jawline; he looked, impossibly, simultaneously old and young. He was wearing a fitted pair of trousers and a white button-up shirt done all the way to the top. Professional from head to toe, like a businessman.

The door shut behind the stranger. Soonyoung shot out of Jisoo’s bed, instinctively running his hands through is hair and along the creases of Jisoo’s pajamas.

“I’m Seungcheol,” the suited boy – man, Soonyoung thought – said, wearing a casual smile as he moved closer to sit on the edge of Jisoo’s bed.

Soonyoung stood dumbly beside it, unsure of what to do with his hands so he kept them by his sides. For a moment, he thought of _them_ – they wore impeccable suits, too. They wore leather shoes they constantly had polished, plain ties, obnoxious sunglasses. They were businessmen who looked every inch the part, but Soonyoung knew they didn’t run companies. They ran _people_.

Seungcheol looked like them, but not exactly. He was young and there was nothing about him that ricocheted violence. It was just his outfit that had Soonyoung frowning, the latter was sure of it. It was an awful reminder.

“Soonyoung,” he introduced himself. Then, before he could stop the words from pouring out, “you have a really big house.”

Seungcheol’s smile was amused. “Yes, it’s quite big, isn’t it?”

Jisoo cleared his throat, smiling at the two of them. “I’ll go wake the others up for breakfast. Come down after, Soonyoung?”

Soonyoung hesitantly nodded. When Jisoo left, he swallowed a lump of anxiety lodged in his throat. He was alone with Seungcheol, now. Alone with the man who owned the mansion and housed twelve people like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

“It was the main family house until my mother passed away,” Seungcheol started, hands roaming behind him to feel Jisoo’s sheets. “My father owns a bank – hence all the money – but he wanted nothing to do with it or this particular city branch afterwards.”

Soonyoung clenched his jaw so that wouldn’t gape like an idiot. Seungcheol didn’t just have money – he _was_ money. His entire family was.

The man paused, smiling to himself as if he’d just thought of a private joke. “I was just eighteen, ready to go to university, when I was given all of this. I’m twenty-two now. Can you believe it?”

“You’re so young,” Soonyoung whispered. Seungcheol had lost his mother but had gained a part of his family’s legacy.

The fact echoed in his ears. When Soonyoung had turned eighteen, just over two years ago, he’d been told about his debt for the very first time. He’d woken up on his birthday with a bunch of suits hovering over him, claiming it was time he paid up. _A life for a life_ , they’d said.

He’d been an orphan boy when they plucked him out of the system. Then they’d given him all he could ever want – food, shelter, people to call family. But he hadn’t known it would come to an end so abruptly. In exchange for all of that, he owed his life to them. They’d taken him in, only to end up using him against himself.

Now he was twenty-one, three years free from the foster system, one year on the run.

His life paled a thousand shades in comparison to Seungcheol’s life. The latter, at least, looked healthy and loved.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol said, gaze faraway beyond Jisoo’s wall. “I would be graduating now, looking for a job. Instead, I’m running a bank and this house.”

“Who lives here?” Soonyoung asked, sitting back down on the bed.

Seungcheol angled his head to smile at him. This time, rather than faraway, he looked fond. “People who haven’t had the easiest lives. Young men with difficulties and no one to look after them for it.” He paused. “Some runaways who don’t want to go back to wherever it is they escaped from.”

At the last sentence, Soonyoung’s skin prickled with goosebumps. Panic rose with every beat of his chest. Did Seungcheol know? That he was on the run from people who wanted him dead?

“Where do you fit in, Soonyoung?” Seungcheol asked him softly.

Shaking his head, Soonyoung tore his eyes away from the other. “I don’t,” he instinctively replied. “I was just here for one night.”

“Jisoo told me you’d been sleeping under bleachers when he found you. It doesn’t sound like a thing people do just for kicks or a change of scenery. How long have you been doing that?”

“I haven’t,” Soonyoung muttered stubbornly. He didn’t mention how it hadn’t _just_ been the bleachers, figuring it wouldn’t help his case.

“Are you in trouble?” Seungcheol’s voice was firm, demanding an answer.

Soonyoung bit down on his tongue. He didn’t know what to say. Telling anyone the truth made him vulnerable, and he’d had enough of being vulnerable.

Seungcheol sighed. The bed rocked as he got up, and Soonyoung’s head lifted at the sound. The former had walked over to him where he sat on the floor, crouching down to try and meet his gaze. “Soonyoung,” he said softly. “If you’re in trouble, I’d like to help you.”

“I’m not,” Soonyoung replied automatically. He winced, cheeks warming under Seungcheol’s intense glare.

The latter inched closer, and Soonyoung felt himself tense, holding his breath. “You’re not alone here. Let me help you.”

“You can’t,” he replied drily. And he hadn’t intended on giving anything away, not as his head was gearing up and preparing him to get up and run, but the determination in Seungcheol’s face was difficult to ignore and he found himself slipping up anyway. “They’ll kill me.”

“Who?” Seungcheol demanded, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

Soonyoung furiously shook his head, the panic shooting through his body. “You don’t understand.”

“Then _help_ me to. You are not the only one who’s had to go through this.”

His head shot up. “Then you should know how difficult it is for people like me to trust anybody.”

Seungcheol’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “Okay, so then don’t trust me. Just hear me out. Hear any one of us out and see for yourself.”

Soonyoung’s teeth bared in a reluctant growl. “Have any of your kids bounced around from one foster home to another just to end up being thrown around for fun every night in the basement to pay off a debt they didn’t even _realise_ they had? Do any of them owe their lives to a bunch of _butchers_?”

It was the most he’d ever said to anyone about _them_. Freeing the truth from the depths of his memories was liberating yet equally daunting. The danger swelled on his tongue, warning him to stop, to keep his mouth shut.

Seungcheol was quiet but his breaths grew heavier. Fury radiated from him, seeping out through his pristine white shirt, staining the pajamas Soonyoung still wore. “Is that what they did to you? What you’re running from?”

Soonyoung pursed his lips. “This is not a therapy session.”

Ignoring him, the other boy pushed. “No, but I want you to tell me so I can help you, Soonyoung. I want to know what’s happening to you.”

“Nothing is happening to me,” Soonyoung spat. “It’s none of your business.”

“It becomes my business when Jisoo brings home a stranger and Jihoon tells me he doesn’t _trust_ you.”

The words take Soonyoung by surprise. What did _Jihoon_ have to do with it? What did he say?

As if he could read his mind, Seungcheol continued, “Jisoo ran away from his home and family six years ago. He’s been dealing with people like you since then.” A pause. “It takes one runaway to know another.”

Soonyoung shook his head, refusing to believe it. If that was true, how come he didn’t see that in Jisoo? “I don’t care. What did Jihoon have to say about me? He doesn’t even know me.”

“He’s very good at reading people,” Seungcheol replied vague, his jaw ticking. “Have you met him yet?”

“Last night.”

“Then you’ve seen he’s not…the friendliest when it comes to people. Strangers, especially.” Soonyoung thought back to Jihoon’s dead stare and hostile demeanor. “But when he warns me against people, I tend to listen. You see, I’m not just trying to look out for you here. I’m protecting everyone else. My family.”

Soonyoung scowled, the panic ebbing into bitter envy. _Of course_ Seungcheol wasn’t just hell bent on helping him. He’d been _warned_ against him, he said. He was currently labeled an unknown danger. And though he was the one running _from_ danger, it was almost comical being thought of _as_ the danger itself.

“I want you to stay,” Seungcheol told him after a beat. He met Soonyoung’s eyes, and the latter searched it to see if he was being genuine. “Stay so I can help you. We all can – you really aren’t alone.”

Soonyoung stood up, flinching when Seuncheol tried to hold out a hand. He could no longer look at the man. “I have to go.”

His flight or fight instincts were pushing into overdrive, setting off warning bells in his head. He couldn’t stay here – he didn’t trust them, and they didn’t trust him, either. He was going to leave the house and never look back. Maybe even run three towns over so there was more distance between them.

Jisoo had been nice to offer him a bed for a night, but the consequences of taking the hand outstretched to him outweighed the benefits, if there were any.

Soonyoung tore out of Jisoo’s room – still dressed in the boy’s pajamas, but he didn’t care, it was at the bottom of his list of priorities – and through the maze of hallways, down the obnoxiously large and wide stairs. The house was dauntingly beautiful, a mockery to his rotten life. He heard his name being called out from one of the rooms – Jisoo, he thought – but he refused to listen.

He kept his eyes on the marble floor while he ran, wanting to make sure his legs were still moving and moving fast.

He collided with something hard and steady before he knew it. He stumbled backwards, the impact of a broad wall tripping him onto his backbone. He felt pain vibrate up his spine and to his head, his limbs immediately throbbing, already bruised.

“Get up,” a voice growled.

Soonyoung felt his stomach bottom out and his heart fall into the void. Jihoon stood before him, his arms even paler against his black t-shirt as he crossed them over his broad chest. He wore a mask of indifference on his face but Soonyoung could see he was steaming with anger, waves of it rolling off his figure.

“Repeating myself is such a chore,” he said. “I told you to get up.”

Soonyoung pushed himself up from the floor, his palms stinging with stabbing pain. He made to run away but Jihoon’s presence towered over him despite his short stature, his eyes staring him down, daring him to even try escaping.

Somewhere behind him, doors opened and closed, feet shuffling in and out. He didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the other boy.

Jihoon cocked his head at him mockingly. “This isn’t what I had in mind when I told you to leave.”

“Let me go,” Soonyoung growled. “I don’t want anything to do with this place.”

“Oh, silly you. What makes you think we want anything to do with you, either?” Jihoon smiled widely. It was a calculating smile, one that felt like a ticking bomb.

A voice behind him warned, “ _Jihoon_.” Soonyoung knew it was Seungcheol. He could imagine the man of the house standing at the top of the stairs, more lines of disappointment etching themselves onto his already tired face.

Jihoon shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Just playing around, Seungcheol. Don’t worry your little head.” To Soonyoung, he gestured his head towards the large front doors. “Let’s go on a ride, you and me.”

Soonyoung knew better than to trust that his offer was without malice. There was a mischievous glint in Jihoon’s eyes, one that were predatory as they dug their claws into him. “No,” he refused. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Funny that you think you have a choice.” Jihoon snorted, turning his back on him. “My leash has been shortened after a little incident last night, but don’t think I won’t sacrifice another few inches if you refuse to listen to me. My freedom means nothing to me, and you even less.”

Soonyoung fumed. “Is that a threat?”

Jihoon hummed. “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! Now, come along, stranger.”

 

He shouldn’t have gotten inside the car. What had possessed him to even agree? He had no idea. Only that Jihoon was a menace who seemed like the type to stay true to his word.

He’d threatened Soonyoung’s life and though the latter regarded it with very little enthusiasm, he had no plans to lose it under the boy’s wrath.

“Now, you will listen because I don’t like repeating myself.” Jihoon let out a cold _ha!_ “Did I just contradict myself? I’m sure I said that earlier.”

“What do you want with me?” Soonyoung seethed, wishing Jihoon would shut up. He thought about jumping out of the car while it was in motion, but Jihoon was driving fast, not even bothering to check his mirrors or signs. He ripped through streets, slowing down only when pedestrians were near but stepping down on the gas once they entered wide, empty roads. It was secluded enough for them to be the only vehicle around, which struck Soonyoung strange as it was morning.

“ _I_ personally do not want anything to do with you,” Jihoon told him, one hand off the wheel to wave it dismissively in the air. “But they do, and they’re being quite insistent about it. Stupid, silly people.”

“I don’t want to deal with anyone’s lackey,” Soonyoung replied, fists clenching tight on top of his thighs. He was still wearing Jisoo’s pajamas. Then, quickly, he realized he had left his duffel bag in the house.

Jihoon let out a disinterested grunt. “Good thing I’m not anyone’s anything then.”

Soonyoung turned to Jihoon, hating the way his eyes were cold while they looked out to the road, giving nothing away about what was going on in his head. He leaned in close enough that he could spit on him, if he dared to. “Hurry up and say whatever it is you want to say and then drop me off anywhere. I am done here.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes, foot going down on the brake without easing the car down first. Soonyoung lurched forward before being thrown back into his seat, his seatbelt digging into his chest hard enough to almost tear him in half. Slowly, the driver’s gaze levelled his, fury blazing in his eyes. “I wonder how you’ve managed to survive this long without getting caught. Your stubborn streak is impressive, but uninspiring.”

“None of your business,” Soonyoung muttered, whipping his head around to face the window. There was nothing outside but a dirt road and drying trees. It was as empty as he felt.

“It becomes my business when my family are involved,” Jihoon said drily. After a pause, he continued, “Life on the run isn’t the most thrilling activity, I should know. Tell me, do you plan to run for the rest of your life?”

 _Until I am a free man and they are dead,_ Soonyoung wanted to say. But he didn’t – he didn’t believe it himself. They were going to hunt him down until _he_ was dead. There was no other possible outcome.

“Hm.” He felt Jihoon consider him for a while. “Seungcheol is a man of his word. He is holding out both hands to you, offering you a home and a new life. Yet you don’t take it, and I want to know why.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Soonyoung replies, voice faint with defeat. “It will never last.”

“No,” Jihoon mused thoughtfully, “the good things never do, do they? But when does the road end for you? You’ve made it this far, sure, but you will die fast on the streets. You will rot under the constant paranoia that whatever you’re running from are looking for you. You will wither away, and nobody will know. Is that what you’re so eager to go back to?”

His words riled Soonyoung up, made the angry flame in him grow and glow. He was fuming, completely red now. “Better to not have something at all than to have it and then lose it. I don’t need your pity.”

“I don’t do pity; it’s not a good look on me.” After a beat, Jihoon let out a frustrated _tsk_ , waving him off with a hand. “I am angry, however, that you ran out on Seungcheol. An idiot, he is, but a friend. Trust me when I say his offer is genuine. The mafia will not lay a hand on whoever Seungcheol claims is one of his. His business does not just lie with his family’s bank.” Soonyoung froze, and Jihoon’s brow perked up in interest. “That’s who you’re running from, right?” No reply. “Or perhaps it’s a gang. Whatever, I don’t particularly care. Very bad people. We are all victims of very bad people. But we will not give you much of a choice if we think your life is in danger.”

Jihoon suddenly had Soonyoung’s attention now. The former had an inkling of who _they_ were – he had gotten it right almost immediately.

Though they had called themselves a family of butchers rather than a mafia group, the connotations remained the same. They were violent. They dabbled in blood money. They reaped young people like Soonyoung off the streets and branded them theirs. Marked them with their money before squeezing the life out of them and throwing them away – which was often synonymous with _leaving them for dead_. He had escaped in time to avoid losing his life, but everything he had done under their command before then was now a permanent stain on his memory. He left before he could lose that final inch of his life, but he had lost more than that in the time he had been with them. He had lost his innocence, his virtue, his faith. There was nothing left of him; they had broken him.

But now, in the small confines of Jihoon’s sleek navy car, freedom was at the end of his fingertips. While the offer made him angry with himself, it meant a _chance_.

Did he believe him? No. Did he want to? Yes.

“I don’t trust you,” he told the other boy.

When Jihoon smiled, it was lifeless and cold. He continued to hold Soonyoung’s gaze, but the latter felt as empty as they looked. “Nobody does. Except for Seungcheol, probably, but he likes to make mistakes.” His smile transformed into a wide grin laced with menace. “Don’t become one and I won’t have a reason to cut you out.”

Soonyoung scowled at him. “Fuck you.”

Jihoon let out a howling laugh, turning off the ignition and opening his window. He fumbled around the pockets of his jeans before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, then proceeded to light one up. He shook another one out and offered it to Soonyoung, but he refused.

He shrugged, inhaling his first puff. In a lengthy exhale, he said, “You let Seungcheol take care of you and you will find yourself in a safer position than out there in the unknown. Now sit there and think about making the right decision. You have until I finish this, then I’m taking you back.”

Soonyoung was outraged. “What if I don’t want to go back?”

“Don’t be stupid,” was all Jihoon said before he turned on the radio, turning the volume all the way up.

It felt pointless to argue with someone who refused to hear you out, so he stuck his eyes to the road beyond the car. He was still angry, more over having been found out than anything else. He felt like his privacy had been breached, despite barely having any to begin with. Most of all, he felt angry that someone noticed.

It was a feeling he never wanted to acknowledge while on the run, but for the past year all he wanted was to be noticed. _Stick to the shadows_ , he’d always, always remind himself. But he still found himself yearning to be seen by someone who would reach out their hand and show him care. It made him feel sick. He was always going to be stubborn about it, he knew. But he still wanted the chance.

Perhaps he’d stay. Perhaps what Jihoon said was true, that if he became a part of Seungcheol’s house, he would be safe. He wouldn’t know unless he tried. Perhaps, he allowed himself to wonder, it wouldn’t be so bad.

The more he thought of it, the louder he heard Jihoon’s voice echoing in his head.

 _We will not give you a choice if we think your life is in danger_.

He had only ever known danger, but they were promising him safety. A hand wanting to reach out and show him care.

It was all or nothing.

 

By the time Jihoon drove them back to the house, Soonyoung was an empty shell of everything he had built up over the past few years.

The drive was silent this time, save for the radio. He had spent most of the time battling with his stubbornness to grasp at hopeful, positive thoughts. Every single one that surfaced became an attempt to wash away his sins, to start over anew. He was going to empty himself of everything he was, everything he had come to be, to make room for a new beginning.

He was going to stay. He had made up his mind after Jihoon had finished his cigarette. He was going to choose safety. He was going to choose them.

Now, climbing out of Jihoon’s car and wandering into the oversized home, he was void of hope but full of determination.

Once inside, Jihoon popped his head into the kitchen. Soonyoung figured he must have deemed it worthy of his presence because the boy strolled in. With a roll of his eyes, he followed and kept to himself at the end of the island counter while Jihoon thoroughly searched the cupboards for something.

“Fuckers,” he exclaimed with a laugh. “The things I do for this family.” He sighed, dropping down to the bottom cupboards under the marble sink, still grumbling to himself.

Soonyoung frowned at him, not understanding. “What are you looking for?”

“I briefly remember stashing my bottle somewhere around here,” Jihoon murmured, not addressing him at all. “Kim Mingyu must think himself a saint for hiding it from me.”

Soonyoung came to realise he must have meant his drink – the bottle of vodka that had kept Jihoon company after Soonyoung had refused last night. His frown deepened. “Alcohol,” he muttered.

Jihoon snorted. “Smart.” With a lengthy sigh, he stood up and grabbed a glass from the tray on the counter, heading towards the fridge’s water dispenser. He was grimacing as the liquid filled it, apparently disapproving. “I will kill him,” he said, and Soonyoung didn’t miss the cheerful beat in his tone.

“Why would he hide it?” Soonyoung asked, eyes still trailing Jihoon. The latter downed his glass of water before filling it up again, body half-turned from Soonyoung.

He lifted his gaze from his glass. Drily, he said, “It’s not wise to leave bottles out in the open where alcoholics – previous and current – can be easily be tempted by them. Apparently.”

Soonyoung raised a brow. “Alcoholics?”

Jihoon grinned, placing his glass down on top of the sink. “Don’t be so surprised. We are riddled with all kinds of issues. It’s a rule Jisoo came up with for Jeonghan and Wonwoo that they all like to keep like the good boys they are.”

“Are they,” Soonyoung dropped his voice, feeling as though he was suddenly overstepping into private territory, “alcoholics?”

“They were, once upon a time.”

“You also said current. Who?”

Jihoon levelled a smile at him.

Soonyoung should have known – Jihoon was all kinds of trouble. It shouldn’t surprise him that he liked to drink more often than normal, though he had only seen it once, but it did.

Jihoon watched him for a moment before walking back to the fridge. Over his shoulder, he said, “Your surprise is impressive. I suppose you’ll meet them once they all come home. Fun times await you, stranger.”

Soonyoung swallowed. Meeting the rest of the house members worried him. It made him anxious – did they all know who he was already? Had they heard this morning’s commotion?

He opened his mouth to say something, realized he didn’t know what, and closed it. Jihoon hummed to himself, shaking his head at the contents of the fridge as he opened it. Soonyoung saw it was packed to the brim with containers of cooked food, two drawers of fresh vegetables, a large grey pot taking up a whole shelf and bottled drinks grouped together on the top tray.

“Stop calling me that,” he said finally, sighing. “My name is not _stranger._ ”

Jihoon turned to him. “I have yet to figure out who you are. Until then, you are nothing to me. _Stranger_ is fitting.”

A scowl etched itself onto Soonyoung’s face. “Are you always this nice?”

Another one of Jihon’s cold, uninviting smiles flickered on his face. “I’m usually much worse.”

Shaking his head, Soonyoung decided he was being too insufferable and pushed himself off from where he was leaning on the island table. Jihoon watched, eyes sizing him up and down again; it made his skin crawl. “Quite an outfit,” he commented.

Soonyoung grimaced. He looked down and remembered Jisoo’s pajamas. “Shut up,” he replied uselessly.

“Tsk, such a rude mouth you have, stranger.” He neared Soonyoung, his every step a heavy burden piling itself onto the latter’s shoulder. Jihoon stared up at him, eyes glossy but dead and every bit terrifying.

He held his breath while the other cocked his head to analyse him. “What?” he said through clenched teeth.

Jihoon smirked. “I tell you what, _Soonyoung_ , I don’t like you.”

Soonyoung met his cocky expression with a scowl. “I don’t _care_.”

Head tilting back in mock laughter, Jihoon’s eyes sparked with amusement. “Oh, you really _do_ have bite, don’t you?” He hummed, smirk never leaving his face. “You’ll be an interesting one, stranger, I can feel it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Soonyoung seethed, baring his teeth. Jihoon was pissing him off so much, so quick. He was so cocky and sure of himself, his words and expressions a threat in Soonyoung’s eyes. He’d never felt so much anger just from standing next to someone.

The glint in Jihoon’s eyes flickered and dimmed as whatever he was thinking changed him. He became immediately distant despite their hostile closeness. Soonyoung watched as his eyes emptied of whatever amusement he felt while teasing Soonyoung, his expression slipping effortlessly into one of boredom and plainness.

Jihoon cut his eyes away from his dismissively. “I am bored of this conversation,” he deadpanned, sidestepping Soonyoung’s still figure.

When he left the kitchen, Soonyoung was still seething. Jihoon was capable of giving people whiplash – giving _him_ whiplash – with his changing moods and awful, despicable attitude. He knew the other saw him as a joke and a punching bag, which he took because he wouldn’t rise to Jihoon’s taunts, but there were apparent layers to him that were even more closed-off than he initially thought, buried beneath piles upon piles of bricks.

He couldn’t figure Jihoon out and it annoyed him ceaselessly. The boy had a problem with him he couldn’t comprehend, but he wasn’t going to do anything to impress him just to get him off his back.

He would leave Jihoon be, he decided. He was as unimportant to Soonyoung as Soonyoung was to him. He would have to rely on Jisoo and Seungcheol, and soon the others, for now – they, at least, treated him with consideration instead of indifference.

As thoughts of them surfaced, so did guilt. He’d run out on the both of them despite their patience. He had to apologise, he realized. He had to _try_ with them to make peace with himself and the house.

With a sigh, he turned to leave the kitchen. He needed to shower and change first, to wash away his anger and anxiety, and the lingering thoughts that clung to him like a vice around his neck – _I am safe now, but for how long?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow my twt @JLHOOZI for more n_n and also just to talk about svt/soonhoon because i love them so much i cry


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soonyoung gets acquainted with the rest of the boys, and Jihoon gives an order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to update! I admit I hit a bit of a wall with this particular chapter because I wanted to introduce the rest of the guys and writing to fit them all in was a bit...difficult. I kept starting again a couple times but I'm happy with this one! It's mostly Soonyoung getting to the know the others and it's quite long. (7k,,)
> 
> But now that it's mostly done, I can finally move ahead with Soonyoung's development and Jihoon!! I am excited and can't wait to write the rest! so stay tuned for more n_n <33

Soonyoung’s duffel bag lay beneath his feet, practically empty save for a few pieces of clothing. He was waiting in Jisoo’s room, stiffy perched on the edge of the bed, reluctant to snoop around. He felt it would be rude to, especially now he was part of the house.

His chest ached at the thought.

After his conversation with Jihoon, he’d retreated to the room to shower and freshen up. He was now wearing one of his usual outfits – ripped jeans and a jumper that had frays along the hem of it and a few holes here and there. It was the best combination of the clothing he still had with him, yet he felt hideous against Jisoo’s lavishly plain room and Seungcheol’s pearl mansion.

What he was waiting for, he didn’t know. Hours drifted away in silence, the sunlight in the room having dimmed almost entirely by the time he’d stopped listening to the nagging thoughts that lingered about his decision. He’d tried to ward them off, but when they gave no indication of stopping, he’d just let them flow though. It was the only way to let them go, he’d realised.

It was easily to lose track of time when he was alone. Being on the run often meant losing himself to time entirely, only telling night from day from the colours of the sky. He didn’t know what time it was exactly when he began to hear thuds and footsteps outside his door, but he was up and alert immediately.

Muffled voices echoed from outside, and even when he had his ear pressed up to listen closer, there was too much going on for him to clearly make out what they were saying.

Frowning, he pulled open the door. Jisoo stood before him with four other boys crowding around the door. Soonyoung stared at them with wide eyes.

“Hey,” Soonyoung said, scratching the back of his neck. He was getting nervous – Jisoo was right there, and an apology was sitting on the tip of his tongue.

Jisoo smiled, and hope bloomed in Soonyoung’s chest. “You stayed,” he breathed, nodding approvingly. “I’m glad.”

Soonyoung hadn’t expected him to show kindness last night, and he definitely didn’t expect it now, not after running out on him and Seungcheol. But he had, and he was, and Soonyoung was here now because of him.

He took a deep breath in, preparing himself. He was well acquainted with making apologies, sobbing with them blubbering out of his mouth. This time was different, however.

This time, he meant it.

“I’m really sorry about earlier,” he muttered, feeling heat rise to his face. He ignored the curious eyes on him from the boys behind Jisoo and focused on the boy himself. “I was – I got…scared. I’m not used –“ He sighed, shaking his head at himself. “I’m not used to being around others.”

Jisoo nodded, reaching out to put a hand on Soonyoung’s shoulder. He squeezed, and Soonyoung’s lungs exhaled with relief. “You don’t have to explain yourself, alright? I understand, so it’s okay. You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

Soonyoung nodded, feeling tears prickling the back of his eyes. How long he’d waited for someone to reach out and understand him. To think of him, to accept him like this. How long he’d waited, and now he was here, being welcomed by the kindest boy he’d ever met.

It was shocking how comfortable he felt – how warm, how important. If Jisoo believed in him, the world felt alright again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled again, swallowing the urge to cry. He wouldn’t, not now. Even though they were tears of joy and surprise, he wouldn’t let them fall.

Jisoo squeezed his shoulder once more before letting go. “I’m glad you stayed, Soonyoung. You’ll be safe with us, yeah?” Soonyoung nodded, tearing his eyes away from Jisoo’s smiling face. The latter noticed his attention drift over to the boys around him, and he let out a laugh. “These kids just came home from classes and they wanted to meet you. Are you okay for introductions or should we come back later?”

Soonyoung shook his head. “I’m fine."

Jisoo nodded and stepped over to the side slightly. The boys were in full view now, glancing between themselves until the boy in the middle rolled his eyes at the other three, shuffling forward.

He was smiling at Soonyoung with a gleam in his eyes, moving stray strands of blonde hair out of his face. “I’m Seungkwan,” he said.

Soonyoung was in the middle of thinking there was no way this boy was a troublemaker of any sort – not with that smile, or that bounce in his step, or the dazzling look on his face – when he remembered Jisoo’s conversation with Jihoon the night before. Mentions of _Seungkwan_ and Jihoon stepping in for him after whatever had happened.

The realisation that this was _the_ Seungkwan had Soonyoung’s mouth opening in surprise. He was about to say something, about to ask what had happened for curiosity had gotten the best of him when the boy was right in from of him, but he realised it wouldn’t be appropriate. Not for a first meeting, and not when it wasn’t any of his business.

After a while, he said, “I’m Soonyoung.”

Seungkwan stared at him, still smiling, as if expecting him to say more. When he didn’t, the boy looked over his shoulder, giving the boys on either side of him a look.

“Are you going to be nice or what?” Seungkwan whispered hastily.

They stirred out of silence, and Soonyoung’s eyes cut over to them. To Seungkwan’s right was a tall and lanky boy, broad shoulders hidden under a cream-coloured sweater. He wore silver round-frame glasses, and when he caught Soonyoung staring at him, he consciously pushed them up the bridge of his nose.

“I’m Wonwoo,” he greeted, nodding at him. “Welcome to the house.”

Soonyoung felt his mouth curve up into a weak smile. “Thanks.”

Next to Wonwoo stood a shorter boy wearing a black beanie, bright pink tufts of hair sticking out from beneath it. He smiled, holding out a hand. “Hey, I’m Chan, nice to meet you. Is it true you punched Jihoon hyung in the face today?”

Soonyoung blanched. Jisoo groaned, and Seungkwan gasped, nudging Chan. “Chan, don’t be rude! _G_ _od_.”

Soonyoung bit down hard on his tongue before answering. “Nice to meet you, too.” He paused, frowning. “And no, I didn’t punch him.” _I wish I had_ , he didn’t add.

Chan shrugged, and another voice piped up. “I’m pretty sure Jihoon hyung would kill him if he even tried.” It was the boy on Seungkwan’s other side. He had scruffy brown hair that curled at the ends, slightly long enough to curve around his ear. It was definitely long enough for strands to get caught in the headphones he had slung around his neck.

Soonyoung was a little taken aback – this boy was _beautiful_. He thought it the way anyone would call a baby beautiful, as though it was a natural thing and it couldn’t escape anyone’s notice. Long lashes framed dreamy eyes, and even the awful outfit made up of entirely oversized clothing was not enough to taint his looks.

Soonyoung pursed his lips, suddenly at a loss for words at the comment about Jihoon. He didn’t take the words to heart – it was difficult to feel offended when he agreed, too – but any mention of the boy had him feeling on edge.

“Hansol, you can’t just –“ Seungkwan spluttered, sighing heavily. He stepped in front of the boys, smiling at Soonyoung apologetically. “They’re just stupid, don’t mind them. This –“ he pointed to the boy with the headphones, who gave Soonyoung a small wave “- is Hansol.”

All eyes were on him, somewhat hopeful. Even though Wonwoo wore an expression of apprehension on his face, they were all smiling. The attention was frightening, and Soonyoung felt overwhelmed by it all. He didn’t know what to do with it.

It was very much unlike being shoved into a basement room for predatory eyes to prey on him, licking their lips as they waited to taste his blood and reap his heart. This was new. He knew he had a way out – all he had to do was say the words and Jisoo would probably let him go, even with disappointment – but he found himself suddenly desperate to stay.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he told them, looking at them each sincerely in the eyes. His politeness was a little rusty from lack of use, but it seemed to work because their smiles turned into wide grins, and Jisoo was nodding at him proudly from the side.

“You’ll meet the rest later when Minghao and Mingyu get home,” Jisoo told him.

“They’re at a modelling gig,” Hansol added, smiling breezily with his teeth. Soonyoung didn’t know what to do with that piece of information.

Seungkwan turned to Jisoo, clapping his hands together. “So…can I ask him now?”

Jisoo gestured towards Soonyoung. “Go ahead.”

Soonyoung cocked his head at them. Seungkwan shifted his attention to him, still beaming. It was difficult to imagine him ever getting into trouble with his sunshine smile. He found himself curious once again over what had happened with him and Jihoon.

“I was wondering,” Seungkwan started, looking as if he was one second away from bursting out into giggles, “if you’d be okay with us doing a little dinner thing tonight to celebrate you staying with us? I mean – it’s okay if you don’t want to, I don’t mind waiting or not doing it at all. We usually eat separately or order takeout.”

“Dinner party," Soonyoung echoed.

Seungkwan quickly added, “I just thought it’d be a great way for you to see the whole family at once. We’re all here tonight!”

Soonyoung paused. He’d just met four of the people who lived here, and it felt like a struggle just keeping a smile on his face. Social interaction was uncommon to him, a skill that had died long ago.

Weighing the options in his head, he felt torn in the midst of a game of tug-and-war between his instincts to close up, or open up; run away, or stay. But he told himself again that he wanted this, that he wanted to stay. And he could only do that if he chose to make a change and open up. If he met them all at once, there would be no need to wait it out and do it again.

“Jisoo hyung’s cooking is pretty good,” Chan added during his silence.

Soonyoung looked at them slowly, taking their expectant gazes in. When it landed on Seungkwan, his heart tugged at his resolve. Here the boy was, smiling, thinking about _him_ , about doing this for _him_.

Soonyoung nodded. “That sounds great,” he said, feeling a weight lift from his chest.

Seungkwan _squealed_ this time, clapping his hands together. Wonwoo rolled his eyes behind him, and Hansol reached out for a high five, which Seungkwan gladly gave him. Chan hummed to himself cheerfully, and when Soonyoung’s eyes slid over to Jisoo, he found the boy watching him, that clear, unwavering pride on his face.

For the first time in a long time, Soonyoung felt as if he’d made the right decision.

 

 

Seungkwan kept Soonyoung company in the living room after Jisoo had told him to wait while he went out with Hansol and Chan to buy groceries and pick up another one of their boys. When he asked where Wonwoo had gone, Seungkwan had just said, "probably playing games upstairs - you know, from one addiction to another". He had no response to that, and so held his tongue.

He thought he shouldn’t have been so surprised to see that the living room practically screamed money like the rest of the house, but he here he was.

It was something out of a dream. A large expanse of space painted a soft shade of yellow, paintings hung up on the wall along with wall lights. The furthest wall was an entire window framed by white curtains, and on the other side of it was a well-lit back garden. Inside, there was a giant widescreen TV that spanned almost half a wall, a DVD player and a games console hooked up to it beneath, a shelf of games beside it. In front of it were a bunch of beanbags, and far behind them was a long and lavish sofa. There was also an encased shelf of figurines off to one corner, and a glass coffee table decorated with a flower pot in the middle of it.

Seungkwan giggled at Soonyoung when he caught him staring, mouth agape. “Is it really surprising?”

Soonyoung bit back his answer – he didn’t want to delve into the details of how mundane and empty his previous homes had been. None had been as bright and lively as this. None had felt _lived in_ , let alone felt like home.

He nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. When Seungkwan dropped down on one of the beanbags, he gestured at Soonyoung to take the one next to him.

Seungkwan was a talker, he quickly learned. From complaining about the classmates he hated to how amazing the stew Mingyu had cooked on his day in the kitchen last Friday was, to wondering aloud whether he was capable of pulling off the double denim look to expressing his awe for Minghao’s mullet hairstyle. Soonyoung had no idea who Mingyu and Minghao were yet, but he let Seungkwan talk at him. It wasn’t as if he had a choice, with him never knowing what to say, but he was grateful for the conversation.

Seungkwan stopped some time after going on about Hansol’s walking-with-headphones-in problem. He turned to Soonyoung fully, laying his head back on the beanbag. “We don't mind if you keep to yourself, by the way. You don't have to tell us anything. But Jisoo hyung had told us you were new and Jihoon hyung brought you back somehow. I was wondering what he said to you.”

This took Soonyoung by surprise. "He threatened me."

Biting his lip, Seungkwan eyed him warily. “I know he’s a bit…well, you’ve seen him. But he’s not terrible. He doesn’t get involved for no reason.”

“I don’t think we’ll get along," Soonyoung said drily.

Seungkwan shrugged. “He’s a very angry person, but he still looks out for us.” He paused, worry flickering in his eyes before treading carefully. “I got into a really bad fight the other night. Or rather, these guys came up to me and started giving me shit. I don’t fight back, you know? I hate it – violence, that is – so I don’t do it. But Jihoon hyung dropped everything to protect me.”

It began to make sense now. Jihoon getting in trouble for doing _something_ for Seungkwan last night.

“What did he do?”

Seungkwan’s eyes flickered to the ceiling as if unable to meet his eyes. “He almost killed them.”

Soonyoung opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. After a beat, he realised he had nothing to give the boy.

The pieces were slowly coming together. It was the first time he felt anything other than disbelief and anger towards Jihoon. He felt _respect_.

It took him by surprise at the same time it didn’t. Jihoon valued his family with a fury Soonyoung couldn’t relate with, but he didn’t know _how_ far his limit reached. He hurt people for hurting one of his own, risking getting caught, apparently, and Seungcheol’s supposed wrath. But he had his reason for doing so.

It reminded him of Seungcheol’s words, how Jihoon had warned him, and how Jihoon had grilled him in the car about staying. One moment he was protecting his family, and the next, he was convincing Soonyoung to stay for them.

He didn’t know the boy, but he thought stepping in for Seungkwan was a very Jihoon thing to do. Perhaps he wasn’t a bad person after all. Perhaps they were just two very different people.

After a moment of silence, Soonyoung cleared his throat. “He told me Seungcheol could protect me. He told me you guys wanted me to stay. It was…enough to get me to come back here.”

Seungkwan turned his attention back to him, smiling thoughtfully. “We’ve all had pretty shitty lives, so we look out for each other. The hyungs saw you as one of us.”

Soonyoung very much doubted Jihoon saw him as part of the family, but he believed Seungkwan’s words about Seungcheol and Jisoo. They were two very giving people.

With nothing to say, Soonyoung kept to himself. Seungkwan thankfully shifted the conversation away to something tamer.

Jisoo came in twenty minutes later, popping his head through the door. “Hey, we’re home. Kitchen?”

Seungkwan got up from his beanbag, holding out a hand. Soonyoung stared at it for a moment, feeling his heart jolt in pleasant surprise, despite his hesitance. He took it, and Seungkwan pulled him up.

He followed Seungkwan and Jisoo across the foyer to the kitchen but stopped in his tracks when he noticed a figure looming in one of the doorways to his left. He froze, feeling a familiar weight on his back.

“Hey, stranger,” Jihoon said.

Jisoo stopped just before he reached the kitchen door. He turned, addressing Jihoon with a glare. “Behave.”

“I’m not even doing anything, Jisoo,” Jihoon hummed, and Soonyoung could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

He turned, finding Jihoon leaning on a door with a cigarette tucked away in one of his ears, his muscled arms crossed over his chest. It was either the studio or the garage, Soonyoung couldn’t remember and he couldn’t see, but he realised Jihoon must have been down here all this time after their conversation earlier.

Soonyoung pursed his lips. He didn’t want to talk to Jihoon at all, so he kept quiet.

Seungkwan, on the other hand, was apparently happy to see him. He was smiling, and when Jihoon slid his gaze away to the boy, Soonyoung saw his face soften.

“Classes go alright?” Jihoon asked.

Seungkwan let out a groan and his hands came up on either side of his head, mimicking it exploding. “Every day, I am stuck with idiots who don’t even know the difference of each musical scale. And they study _music_.”

Jihoon laughed. He _laughed_ , and Soonyoung’s eyes widened at the sight and the sound. It was difficult to imagine Jihoon having any other expression beyond indifference, but here it was, proof that he somewhat did. It was short and clipped, sharp just like the rest of him, but it was enough to surprise Soonyoung completely.

“Atta sport! That is why you’re the ace.” If this had been directed at anyone other than Seungkwan, Soonyoung thought it would have sounded sarcastic and biting, but because it was the former, it was different - it was sincere.

It seemed that Jihoon doted on Seungkwan with a certain kind of affection that Soonyoung couldn’t imagine looking right on anyone else. It was wholly unnerving. He cleared his throat and walked towards Jisoo, ignoring Jihoon and Seungkwan’s continuing conversation as he passed by the latter.

“I’ll help with the cooking,” Soonyoung mumbled to the boy. “If you need it.”

Jisoo searched him for a few seconds before nodding, a small smile on his face. They left Jihoon and Seungkwan to talk in the foyer as they entered the kitchen, and Soonyoung made sure to be wary of what he said about Jihoon around Seungkwan.

 

 

It turned out, Jisoo didn’t need his help. Soonyoung couldn’t tell the difference between different pots and pans, and he didn’t know how to put away the groceries properly because the fridge seemed to have a system. He was terrible at it.

Jeonghan, however, had been in the kitchen all along, reading a magazine while perched on the counter. He saw Soonyoung struggling and came to his rescue.

“Really, you could just shove everything in the fridge and we wouldn’t even notice,” he told Soonyoung with a laugh. “It's bound to get organised somehow. Mingyu gets so annoyed when it's messy.”

“Why would he get annoyed?”

Jeonghan finished putting a bag of carrots in the vegetable drawer in the fridge. “He likes to keep things tidy. Some of the kids like to mess around with him and purposely put things out of place, though. Stay clear of Mingyu whenever Jihoon or Minghao come out of the kitchen snickering to themselves, or something. They’re usually the culprits.”

Soonyoung filed away that information for later. He was starting to get a hang of analysing these people and the house. He’d taken in everything Seungkwan had told him in the living room earlier, filed away in a compartment for little details about the boys and their lives. It gave them little clues to their personalities and made their names and faces easier to remember.

“Pass me the last bag?” Jeonghan asked, pointing to the groceries next to Soonyoung’s arm.

He handed it over and watched as Jisoo turned around from where he was boiling water on the stove to rifle through it. Jeonghan took out a packet of what looked like spaghetti, handing it out to Jisoo.

“I thought Hansol and Chan went shopping with you?” he asked.

Jisoo nodded, tearing open the packet and pouring its contents into the big pot on the stove. “They went upstairs to do homework real quick. Seokmin’s taking a shower. Hey, where’s the sauce I bought?”

Jeonghan took a pause to think. When he remembered putting it away in the fridge, he took it out. “Surprised you’re not making this from scratch.”

“Seokmin wanted to order chicken to go with it so it's only half the usual portion. And I'm too lazy to juice tomatoes,” Jisoo replied.

Soonyoung watched them, admiring the way their conversation flowed so easily. They talked as if they didn’t care he was listening, as if they didn’t notice him at all. They made each other laugh with jokes here and there, always Jeonghan doing something to make Jisoo snort into his hand and throw his head back.

It was another stab in the chest. That they could have lived a life of trauma or grief or whatever it was that haunted them and still laugh like this. Watching them be happy made him sad, but he couldn’t deny there was a flicker of hope in him, too.

“I’ll set the table ready,” Jeonghan said.

Soonyoung straightened from where he stood leaning on one of the counters. “I’ll do it.”

Jisoo turned to him, smiling. “It’s alright, you don’t have to do anything.”

“I feel bad,” Soonyoung admitted. “Not being able to help with the cooking. I don’t mind.”

“I’ll handle it,” Jeonghan told him with a wink. “This is for you, so let us.”

Soonyoung’s shoulder slumped, feeling useless. He needed to do something to pay them back somehow, even if it was with a few simple chores. He didn’t even know how to set a table, which is probably what they’d guessed, but he’d still wanted to try.

He pushed off the counter and went to stand next to the long dining table by the window while Jeonghan started stacking plates out of a cupboard and onto the counter. Here, he had a good view of the outside of the house, faintly lit by lights hung around trees and well-kept bushes. It was dark enough for them to stand out, and Soonyoung couldn’t help but admire them. They were like stars dancing in the night, blinking at him.

He stood like that, staring out the windows, until the door burst open. Seungkwan, Chan, Hansol, and two other boys came in, and the kitchen suddenly lit with chatter.

“Soonyoung hyung!” Seungkwan called, grinning. Then he caught himself, and his eyes widened. “Wait, you are a hyung, right?”

Save for Jeonghan and Jisoo, who were busy pulling out plates from cupboards and stirring the big pot of spaghetti noodles, all eyes were on him.

He shrugged. “I’m twenty-one, if that matters.”

“He’s a hyung,” one of the unfamiliar boys confirmed, nodding.

“You don’t have to call me hyung,” Soonyoung hastily added. No one had ever called him that. Not even the youngest kids of his previous foster families and definitely no one from _that_ family. He wasn’t used to using it, let alone hearing it. “I don’t really care if you don’t.”

Seungkwan shook his head, hands on his hips. “Are you kidding me? Seungcheol hyung raised us with manners,” he said proudly.

Soonyoung had no comment for that. If Seungcheol had been the one to ‘raise’ them, how long had they been with the boy? How long had Seungcheol been doing this, taking strays into his house and giving them a life?

“If you really had manners, you’d introduce us,” the boy who spoke earlier said, a hand on his chest. He beamed at Soonyoung, and the latter was almost blinding. His features were sharp yet delicate, and it reminded Soonyoung of Seungkwan. “I’m Seokmin!”

The other boy gave him a small wave and a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with all of the lights in the room reflecting in his feline eyes. “We’re the same age! I’m Junhui.”

Soonyoung nodded at the both of them, trying his best to smile. He hoped it looked as cheerful as he wanted it to be but smiling was honestly still quite a rusty action to him

“Now that you’re here,” Jisoo chirped. “Will you order the chicken?”

Chan pulled out a phone from the pocket of his jeans. “I got it! Wait, what are we getting?”

Seungkwan sighed impatiently, pushing the boy over to the counter table. Hansol gravitated towards them, the three of them looking over Chan’s shoulder as they debated types of chicken to order.

Soonyoung turned back to the lights outside. He was doing well – no hiccups, no anxieties springing out to catch him off guard. No one had asked about him, and he was glad. He didn’t want them to; he wanted to start over on a clean slate with these people.

Seokmin approached him quietly, but he could see the boy’s reflection in the window. “It’s nice meeting you by the way.”

Soonyoung glanced at him to find him smiling. “You too. I think there’s only two of you left to meet.”

Chuckling quietly, Seokmin nodded. “Yeah, there’s quite a lot of us. I wouldn’t blame you if you forgot any one of our names.”

“I’m starting to forget already,” Soonyoung joked, surprising himself. He hadn’t meant to say it, but it came out anyway. He laughed at himself, shaking his head in disbelief. It was the easiest, most-lighthearted thing he’d ever said.

And he didn’t stop there. He feigned a confused expression at Seokmin. “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”

Seokmin laughed heartily, throwing his head back. “Oh, I like you already, hyung!”

Something tugged at Soonyoung’s heart, but he didn’t know what. Longing? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it was on the edge of happy and uncertainty. It reminded him of Jihoon – of the boy telling Soonyoung he didn’t like him. Apparently, it was one or the other with Soonyoung.

As if on cue with his thoughts of Jihoon, he scowled. But then remembering the other boy next to him, he composed himself again. Seokmin, thankfully, didn’t notice, his fingers moving to rub his eyes.

“Tired?” Soonyoung asked.

“I left my glasses upstairs,” Seokmin replied. When he took his hands away from his face, Soonyoung saw a pair of tired, strained eyes.

“You should go get them,” he told him gently.

“Wanna come with? I can show you the other rooms if you’d like,” Seokmin offered.

“I’ll stay and help,” Soonyoung replied, shaking his head. He was afraid if he went upstairs, he wouldn’t come back down. He could imagine himself taking a breather in Jisoo’s room and never coming back out.

He felt exhausted from holding himself together in front of them, but equally proud that he was doing well. This was progress, he thought. Slow and steady progress.

Seokmin nodded with a quiet smile and left him standing there with his thoughts.

 

 

Dinner was loud when Mingyu and Minghao came home. They came into the kitchen bickering about something, passing eye rolls back and forth, and when they saw Soonyoung, they stopped in the middle of the kitchen in surprise.

“I didn’t realise we had visitors,” the tallest one said. Soonyoung realised he was the tallest of the entire group, his long legs framed in a fashionable pair of dark flared jeans. He towered over Soonyoung easily, and it almost hurt the latter’s neck to look up at him.

“This is Soonyoung hyung,” Seungkwan told him, looking up from where he was sat on one side of the dining table, scrolling through his phone. Soonyoung was stood off to one side, too nervous to sit down with the others. He shifted from one foot to another, shy under the scrutiny of the spotlight.

Mingyu’s face changed at Seungkwan’s words. He lit up, casual smile on his face. “Oh, of course! I’m Mingyu,” he said, nodding. He nudged the shoulder of his friend beside him, and the latter shoved back, almost throwing Mingyu off balance. Mingyu scowled, muttering curses under his breath.

His friend introduced himself as Minghao, giving him a short wave. “I can’t believe you’ve stuck yourself with this lot,” he stage-whispered to Soonyoung, hand cupped around his mouth for effect. He winked, giggling. “They’re a lot of work.”

Mingyu scoffed. “You’re the most high-maintenance so shut the fuck up.”

Soonyoung was unsure of what to do with himself as the two returned to their playful bickering, so he stood there, fidgeting with his hands in his sleeves. Then the door opened behind them, and Seokmin popped his head in, bespectacled eyes finding Soonyoung’s straight away. When he smiled, it reached his eyes and his entire face lit up.

“Where did you go?” Jeonghan asked him, propping his arms up on his island counter.

“Went to get my glasses,” the other boy replied, pointing to them. “Seungcheol hyung’s home.”

At this, the entire room paused. Then it burst at the seams in eagerness, excited chatter ricocheting off the walls. Soonyoung turned to Jisoo, but the boy seemed to be in the middle of a conversation with Jeonghan, his arm around the latter’s waist. Jeonghan was leaning into him, their heads huddled close together to keep their voices low.

Soonyoung swallowed. Now that Seungcheol was home, the entire house was complete. There was only one thing left to do now.

When he was sure the others were busy with each other, he slipped out of the room quietly. He hoped no one would follow – he wanted to apologise, and he wanted to do it without so many eyes watching him.

He found the eldest across the foyer, just outside the door Jihoon had stood next to earlier. His head was moving and Soonyoung caught glimpses of Jihoon’s dark clothes, his face shadowed by Seungcheol’s height and his room’s dim lighting. They were talking in hushed, hasty voices, but stopped when they heard the kitchen door close behind Soonyoung.

Seungcheol looked more tired than he did when Soonyoung met him, but he managed to smile; it was one with relief. His eyes checked Soonyoung over a few times. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jihoon cocked his head to the side, giving Soonyoung a full view of him.

Soonyoung’s mouth crawled into a scowl before he could stop himself.

“Looking for trouble, stranger?” Jihoon chirped, smile tight and cold on his face.

“I want to talk to Seungcheol,” Soonyoung muttered, nodding at the boy.

Seungcheol walked over to him without a glance back at Jihoon. He surprised Soonyoung by clasping his hands on his shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze, before bringing them up to cup Soonyoung’s face.

Soonyoung froze. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched or held – it had been so long ago. It had always been with malice and never with this amount of care, as if Seungcheol was afraid to hold him too tight..

Soonyoung clamped down on the urge to cry. He looked at Seungcheol in the eyes, and felt his heart break at the sight of the pure relief in the latter’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung whispered. “I’m sorry for not giving you a chance.”

Seungcheol shook his head, mouth twitching as if it was torn between grimacing and smiling. “Never apologise, you hear me? I’m sorry if I said anything to upset you earlier. I just – well, you know.”

“You just want to help,” Soonyoung mumbled, echoing the other’s words. “Thank you. I’m sorry and thank you.”

Seungcheol let go of him, smile fading as he looked him over one more time. His face distorted into something else entirely, but Soonyoung didn’t know what it was. It was a mixture of too many things he found difficult to comprehend.

“I’ll make up for it,” Soonyoung breathed, smiling weakly.

Seungcheol perked up at that, his expression softening into something calmer. “You just need to make yourself at home and stay safe alright?” He clasped Soonyoung on the shoulder again, and the latter nodded.

“Let’s go eat?” The older boy asked.

“I want to talk to him.”

Soonyoung was about to head for the kitchen with Seungcheol when Jihoon’s voice carried across the floor. He’d forgotten the boy was even there, caught up in the moment with Seungcheol and his breathtaking relief.

It was enough to ruin his mood completely.

Seungcheol sighed, resigned. “Jihoon.”

Soonyoung glanced over to find the boy raising a brow at him. “I won’t hurt him,” he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of innocence. But he smiled at Soonyoung with his teeth, looking too much like the predators Soonyoung was familiar with.

Shaking his head, Seungcheol scowled. “We talked about this.”

Jihoon held a hand to his chest. “You talked, I listened, blah blah. And now I want to do the same with our new little friend here. Gosh, there’s just so much talking and I'm so tired.”

“ _Jihoon_ ,” Seungcheol warned.

Soonyoung’s nostrils flared, breathing heavily through them. “It’s fine, I’ll do it.”

“You don’t have to –“ Seungcheol started, but Soonyoung shook his head.

“Don't worry about me.”

At this, Seungcheol frowned. He gave Soonyoung another glance over but gave up with a reluctant nod. “I want you both in there for dinner when you’re done,” he ordered before going inside.

Being alone with Jihoon frustrated Soonyoung. The former seemed to be constantly on edge, charged with violence and his attitude, so far, hadn’t been pleasant to bear. Anger shot through Soonyoung every time he thought of him, and now alone with him, again, it returned.

Jihoon made his way towards him with ease, his eyes indifferent but heavy on him. “Getting cosy in there, stranger?”

“What do you want from me?” Soonyoung growled.

Jihoon raised a brow at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Watch that attitude, stranger, it’s not doing you any wonders.”

“Just say what you wanted to say and leave me alone.”

Jihoon’s laugh was like a sharp shard of glass, piercing through Soonyoung’s skin. “I did you a favour and this is how you talk to me?”

Soonyoung felt his anger grow by the second. “You didn’t do this for me, you did this for your family.”

Jihoon paused. Soonyoung watched as Jihoon’s expression morphed from its usual indifference to unpleasant surprise. Then, as if he realised it himself, his face quickly became stone-cold again. He stepped closer until their shoes touched at the tips, and Soonyoung could feel the heat of anger rolling off his skin. He smelled like cigarettes and car air freshener. It was giving him a headache.

Everything about Jihoon was giving him one massive headache.

“If you have chosen to stay,” Jihoon said, voice dropping to a menacing tone, “stop looking like a deer caught in headlights. Always looking so goddamn vulnerable. It will do you no good in this world.”

When Soonyoung refused to answer him, he stared down at him dead in the eyes. Neither wanted to break it, challenging anger for anger. He wanted to turn around and leave, but he didn’t want to give Jihoon any kind of satisfaction.

After a heavy pause, Jihoon hummed. “I admit, stranger, I am conflicted. The others know only your name and not your story. Are you planning on disclosing the truth any time soon?”

“Did Seungcheol or Jisoo not tell them anything?” Soonyoung asked, eyebrows pulling together.

“It is not their story to tell,” Jihoon replied.

When Soonyoung thought about the truth, he felt like he was being suffocated. Stacks upon stacks of dark memories were locked away in a chest in the back of his mind, the key still in his hands. They constantly pulled at him, begging him to open them, trying to lure him back into hiding.

“That’s not my life anymore,” Soonyoung muttered, breaking the stare. He focused instead on Jihoon’s chest, boring holes into his black shirt, feeling suddenly exhausted and dragged down by the thought of unlocking the chest. The dark colour kept him grounded, fading out his surroundings.

He couldn’t tell if Jihoon was still watching him, couldn’t see his face or his dead stare or his unamused, sharp smile. But he didn’t care. As angry as he was around Jihoon, he was tired now more than anything.

“Your honest face is surprisng,” Jihoon said after a while. When Soonyoung frowned at him, dragging his eyes back to the boy, he added, “I suppose you’ll want me to keep it a secret, too.”

Soonyoung scowled. “Leave me alone.”

Jihoon shrugged. “I said nothing, stranger.”

A heavy, bone-tired sigh escaped Soonyoung. “Look, I want to start anew. But if you're so desperate then, fine, tell them."

Jihoon didn’t know the whole story, only snippets. One particularly important snippet, but not the whole thing nonetheless. It didn’t matter, Soonyoung told himself. He was starting over. The rest did not matter.

“I’m not that low a man,” Jihoon hummed.

Soonyoung pursed his lips. “No, but you are heartless.”

Jihoon smiled a smile as lifeless as his eyes. He put a hand to his chest, mocking taking offense. “Well, that’s a first. Hm. You really are quite surprising, aren’t you.”

“Look,” Soonyoung breathed, “I’m not playing games with you. Whatever it is you want from me, just say it. I have nothing left to offer you.”

“I want nothing from you,” Jihoon deadpanned.

“Then why won’t you leave me alone?”

Jihoon considered this for a moment. Soonyoung thought he was about to shut down and close him off like he did earlier, so he waited for the boy to turn on his heels and leave him there.

But he didn’t. Instead, he uncrossed his arms and let them fall to his sides. “I’ve been told to play nice, so I am.”

“Your definition of nice is twisted,” Soonyoung spat.

Jihoon glowered at him, smile tightening. “You know what, I’m glad you stayed. I had my doubts at first, but I am rolling over in pure joy. See this?” He pointed up to his face, his dangerous stare and grim, flat mouth. “This is my happy face.”

Scoffing, Soonyoung shook his head. “Fuck off.” He turned to leave, but Jihoon grabbed him at the wrist. He winced – it was startlingly painful. Jihoon’s grip was a chain of iron burning and nipping at his skin. He tugged down on it hard until Soonyoung was face-to-face with him.

“Do not walk away from me, stranger,” he said, his voice low and lethal. “I am not as tolerant as the rest of my family.”

“Let me go,” Soonyoung seethed.

Jihoon only tightened his grip around his wrist. Up close like his, Soonyoung could feel hishot, rippling wrath fume from him. “I want you to tell Seokmin to bring you to NB2 tonight. Do not let Seungcheol overhear you.”

“Why? Afraid he’ll shorten your leash again?”

“No games, stranger,” Jihoon whispered harshly. “Pass the message on.”

Soonyoung clenched his free hand into a fist by his side. He would take a swing at Jihoon, but he knew it wouldn’t end well for him. He was smart enough to know when to pick fights – for now, it seemed they would have to stay verbal.  

“I don’t want to go anywhere for you. You don’t control me,” he replied.

Jihoon let go of his wrist, pushing it away from him as if it disgusted him. Then as if nothing had happened between them, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, picking out a stick. He held in between his fingers for a moment before tucking it behind his ear, like earlier.

“Just this,” was all he said, not giving Soonyoung another glance. What he meant by it, the latter didn’t know, but it only made him angrier.

They stood like that for a while, heated in the moment, forgetting about the excited commotion in the kitchen. When Jihoon wasn’t drilling him with one of his stares, he was glancing back towards the door. Soonyoung didn’t take his eyes off the boy, however.

His wrist still stung from the other’s grip, skin itching with the hot pain. He knew he should’ve left, but he couldn’t. Although he despised Jihoon’s attitude, he didn’t want to go in and face the others again, the anxiety that had been dormant since earlier rising up again.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but it must have been enough to worry the others because the door opened behind them and Seungkwan and Seokmin stepped through. Both wore weary expressions as soon as they saw Jihoon and Soonyoung together.

“Everything alright here?” Seungkwan asked cautiously, closing the door behind him. Seokmin moved beside him, brushing his arm against Soonyoung’s.

Soonyoung watched Jihoon’s daring expression dissolve into something unreadable, his eyes flickering from Soonyoung to Seokmin to Seungkwan, where he settled his gaze on the latter. It was an easy weakness; Seungkwan meant something to Jihoon.

“Just dandy,” Jihoon replied cheerfully. “Telling our new friend here to go back in now for dinner.”

“You’re not coming, hyung?” Seungkwan’s eyebrows stayed furrowed, uncertainty flashing in his eyes as he darted his attention back and forth from Jihoon and Soonyoung.

Jihoon stepped back, taking out the cigarette from behind his ears. “I have to go to work.”

Seokmin raised a brow at him. “You don’t work on Thursdays.”

“I am tonight,” Jihoon said with a shrug of his shoulders. He pointed to Soonyoung with a finger, then said, “He’s got a message for you, by the way.”

Soonyoung frowned – he wasn’t saying it outright. He glared at Jihoon, who was just smiling at Seokmin, eyes avoiding Seungkwan’s questioning expression. He didn’t want Seungkwan in on whatever it was he had planned.

Seokmin nodded and turned to Soonyoung. “Coming in?”

Soonyoung’s eyes refused to leave Jihoon’s face. When he caught him staring, Jihoon turned back to him, his expression as indifferent as always.

Turning to Seokmin with the weight of Jihoon’s gaze on his shoulders, Soonyoung nodded. “I could eat.”

Seokmin grinned and led him back in, leaving Seungkwan and Jihoon in the foyer.

 

 

“What’s NB2?” Soonyoung asked, dropping his voice low before they got to the dining table. Seungcheol sat at one end with Jeonghan beside him and Jisoo sat on the other end. Seokmin stopped in his tracks at his question.

“Did…Did Jihoon hyung say something?”

“He told me to tell you to bring me there. Why?”

Seokmin chewed on his bottom lip, a hand coming up to rub at his neck. “It’s a club. We go there sometimes.”

Soonyoung had never been clubbing before, but he’d heard of it before. The thought of it didn’t excite him, either. It only confused him that the request had come from Jihoon. “Why would I go?”

“He uses it as an ice-breaker,” Seokmin said carefully. He glanced at the table then back to Soonyoung. “He used it for some of us when we were new to the house to get to know us. He works there.”

“He works in a club,” Soonyoung echoed. It was another piece of their lives that they handed to him, yet he didn’t know what to do with it. Jihoon, of all people. The least friendly of the group in the most social, loud setting he could think of. It felt wrong, and he didn’t understand it.

“Did he say tonight?” Seokmin asked, and Soonyoung nodded.

Letting out a stuffy sigh, Seokmin led him to the table with a hand on the small of Soonyoung’s back. He set him down on Jisoo’s left before leaning down between Wonwoo and Junhui, whispering into their ears.

Soonyoung watched as Junhui’s eyes widened, but Wonwoo just nodded. The latter’s eyes flickered to Soonyoung’s. It was difficult to read, but Soonyoung felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Jisoo leaned in with a smile. “You alright?”

Soonyoung looked at him, then looked down the table, to the faces he’d met in the last twenty-four hours. The people who had changed his life. He nodded in answer to Jisoo.

On the other end of the table, Seungcheol caught his eye and nodded at him with a smile.

Seungkwan walked through the door a second later. Seungcheol craned his neck, and asked, “Jihoon?” to which Seungkwan merely shook his head. A vein in Seungcheol’s neck throbbed visibly; a sign of his frustration.

Seungkwan skipped to his seat – in between Hansol and Chan – and gave Soonyoung a quick wink when he saw him look at him.

Soonyoung felt at ease with them around him. It was strange, but satisfying. He’d never seen a dining table so full, even with one person missing. He’d never felt so _at home._

This was it, he realised. There was no going back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope it wasn't too...wordy...and boring ;; it really is pretty slow burn fjgdfhgdf  
> if you have any questions about this or any difficulty understanding what's going on please drop a comment/message and let me know! <33


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon is the last person Soonyoung should be making deals with, but he might just be what he’s looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: alcohol, mentions of past abuse, soonyoung suffering

NB2 was chaos. It was full of people in costumes and tables littered with forgotten platters of fruit around a neon-lit dance floor. Music blasted in all corners of the basement building, heavy bass echoing from the ceiling to floor and back again, lights flashing to the thriving beat.

Soonyoung watched, perched on the second-floor railings as people lost themselves to the music and in each other, hands wandering, mouths roaming. He frowned at the sight; it wasn’t his thing. It was too loud and too packed, and the air was too stuffy with humid, sweaty heat.

He wondered if he was ever going to stop questioning himself or stop making such foolish decisions. First, it had been Jihoon’s car. Now, it was a club that Jihoon had demanded he go to. He ought to learn to stick to saying no and keeping it like a promise, but he was starting to think the difficulty in doing same came from his wavering belief in the latter.

“Jihoon hyung mans the bar,” Seokmin sad, leaning in to properly tell him over the music.

Soonyoung’s eyes immediately went to search the floor. There was no bar, however – just a dance floor. But Seokmin caught him, and added, “It’s directly below us. He’ll probably want to talk to you, so go, okay? I’m going to find the hyungs.”

Soonyoung nodded reluctantly, watching as Seokmin wandered back into the crowd. Left alone, he quickly made his way to the stairwell, dodging drunk people here and there as he went down.

Jihoon was behind the bar, just as Seokmin had said, serving drinks and tipping bottles into small glasses before taking a hose out from under the table and drowning the alcohol with fizzy liquid. When he was done piling a tray with them, he tapped on the bar and customers took them without giving him their thanks.

Soonyoung dragged himself through the crowd, stopping just in front of Jihoon on the bar. Upon seeing him, one of the latter’s brows rose.

“Surprised?” Soonyoung said, as loud as he could over the music. He beat Jihoon to it, apparently. The boy had opened his mouth first, but Soonyoung had spoken before he could say it.

“Impressed,” Jihoon replied, his smile as pointed as a blade. “You're more fun when you're not being stubborn.”

“Seokmin told me why you told him to bring me here. I didn’t realise this was a test.”

“I like to keep an eye on things. I don't take to strangers very well. They're just so.. _dangerous_.”

Soonyoung huffed. “The only dangerous one here is you.”

Jihoon’s attention was diverted for a moment when a hand waved him down. Soonyoung waited as he prepared the customer’s drinks, his movements fluid and practiced. He briefly wondered how long he’d been doing this, and how it was possible to be an alcoholic and be so comfortable around his demons.

“You haven't run away yet. I must admit that you’ve piqued my interest,” Jihoon said once he returned to Soonyoung again. He slid over a shot glass of clear liquid towards him.

Soonyoung stared at it, frowning. “I don’t drink.”

Jihoon hummed. “That’s honest of you, stranger. Tell me more.”

Soonyoung clenched his jaw, pushing the glass back towards Jihoon. The latter took it without hesitation and downed it in one. “You allowed to do that on the job?”

“No one’s watching.” Jihoon shrugged. “I know my limits. What’s yours?”

Soonyoung didn’t oblige him with an answer and Jihoon eyed him intently while he filled glass after glass with mixed drinks, his movements expert and timely. Soonyoung watched, admiring the way the colours of the drinks blended together with the different liquids. Soon after, Jihoon reached down and rolled a chilled can of Coke towards him.

“May as well drink something,” he said.

There was something different about Jihoon. It struck Soonyoung that this was probably the most civil they’d been with each other since they first met. There was nothing severely violent about the boy now. He seemed to be calm in a familiar environment. Perhaps there was where Jihoon preferred to be, rather than in the big house. Maybe this was where he found himself the least angry.

Soonyoung took the can in his hands, feeling the condensation drip down his fingers. He didn’t open it; he wasn’t thirsty, and he didn’t trust the drinks in a place like this at all, anyway.

He said thanks quietly, feeling embarrassed saying it to Jihoon, of all people. If Jihoon acknowledged it, he didn’t show it. He went about his job, serving drinks to demanding patrons, and Soonyoung stood at the bar, watching him.

After a while, Jihoon picked up a towel and wiped his hands with it. “Stay, stranger,” was all he said before disappearing down the bar. Soonyoung didn’t see him again until a few minutes later. .

When he turned, Jihoon was right up in his face. He was shorter, but Soonyoung always felt so small under his unwavering gaze. He saw that he couldn’t read it this time, shadowed by the flashing dance floor and the dimmed lights of the room dotted with neon.

“Why am I here?”

They were close enough that Soonyoung didn’t need to yell over the music, but this was a fact that unnerved him. He wrinkled his nose. He could smell Jihoon easily; cigarette smoke and the heavy tang of alcohol.

“I want you to tell me about them,” Jihoon said.

Soonyoung’s mouth parted in surprise. “Why?”

With a curt shrug, Jihoon gestured towards to the corner of the room where the exit was located. “For science,” he deadpanned.

Soonyoung glared at him. “This is not a joke.”

“I’m not laughing, stranger.”

Jihoon gave him a bored once-over before stalking off to the exit. Soonyoung clenched his fists, desperate to hit something at the other’s insufferable attitude, but followed anyway.

After suffering the lingering stench of alcohol down a littered staircase, he was led outside. By the giant coloured containers marked _RECYCLING_ and _DOMESTIC WASTE_ , he figured this was the back of the club.

The door locked behind him, but there was no doorknob on it. He frowned; this was not an escape and there was no way back in.

Jihoon crossed the yard to a shadowed spot in between two containers. He ignored Soonyoung’s presence for a moment before pulling out a cigarette from his back pocket, quickly lighting it before sticking it into the corner of his mouth.

“Say, stranger,” he started, fixing him with bored eyes. “Do you know if the big, bad wolf is still out there looking for you?”

“No,” Soonyoung replied, feeling his stomach churn at the topic of conversation. “I haven’t really taken time out to figure out if they are.”

Jihoon hummed. “Don’t you want to know?”

Soonyoung froze. There was something about this conversation that felt dangerous. As if the ice beneath his feet was thinning by the second, and Jihoon was purposely treading around it with heavy feet. “No. I don’t.”

“Very ambitious of you to assume you’re a free man, then.”

“I’m not.” He wasn’t. He was never, and he knew it deep within the permanent markings of his bones, going to be a free man. Escaped, now; shackled, always.

“A free man or a man on the run,” Jihoon grunted. “Make up your mind, will you.”

_I will never truly be free._

Jihoon took another puff of his cigarette. “If they’re still trailing after you then you’re in trouble, stranger. We will not get along if it turns out you’ve run into my house and into the arms of my family with a bloody target on your back.”

Soonyoung’s anger flared. He was breathing through his nose to try and steady it, but Jihoon made it so easy to get him riled up. “I haven’t.”

He’d been on the run from _those_ people for over a year, travelling across cities and from one end of the country to the other, and there hadn’t been any indication that he’d left a trail or that there was anyone still after him. But still, he didn’t dare think they weren’t. They were bloodhounds and they’d marked him.

But for now – for now, they were nobodies. He was safe where he had these people and his damning hope as shields. He had to believe this, or else he was dead.

Jihoon stared at him, stance cocky and expectant as if he could see right through him. “Consider me the last and only line of defence between my family and their demons. I will not hesitate to protect them with my life. If you bring your men to our doorstep and they are caught in the line of fire, I will not hesitate to protect them _from you_.”

Soonyoung clenched his jaw. “They won’t touch them.” _They’ll come for_ me _._

“When someone is a target, you’ll be amazed at what others will do just to get to them. Speaking from poor, unfortunate experience, they will hunt you down through the people you care for most.”

Soonyoung looked to see if Jihoon’s words brought out any reaction from him. It didn’t. He was cold and lethal, as if the words couldn’t touch him.

He sighed. “Then I'll keep my distance.”

“Good luck doing so with the kids. They've taken a liking to you, stranger.” Jihoon scoffed, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out beneath his foot. Soonyoung expected him to reach for another, but apparently two was his limit for now. “Best not betray them. Now, stop wasting my time and tell me about them.”

Punching Jihoon square on the face was suddenly climbing up higher on Soonyoung’s to-do list. The image of his fury sending Jihoon’s eyes flying wide open as it collided with his face was the only thing distracting him from the sudden cold breeze pulling him into a choke-hold.

His hands were clammy and shaking, his heart pounding against his cage. Panic had its wrists around his ankles, threatening to pull him down. He had to breathe through his mouth this time, letting go of the anger to tend to a familiar demon.

When Soonyoung lifted his eyes towards him, he saw nothing but a cool calmness on his face.

His words came out forced through clenched teeth. “They – they deal with people. Devils who make deals with desperate people and then reap their souls when their time is up. I was seventeen when they found me.” He let out a long, painful breath. Thinking about it gave him a headache; talking about it gave him heartache. “I went from house to house my entire life, thinking I would wait until I was an adult to live my life. Nothing was ever satisfactory. People went in and out of my life in the blink of an eye, and not once did they look at me like I was worth having in their lives.

“They plucked me out of the system and put me into one of their homes. They gave me clothes and food and everything I could possibly need – they…they gave me a life. A home. Called me one of their own. I thought the entire world of them for giving me what I’d always wanted.”

Soonyoung stopped. The chest of memories in the back of his head was rattling, begging to be opened. And he knew he had no choice but to twist open the key and let them out.

“Then they told me I had a debt to pay,” he continued, voice raspy from the hollow ache in his chest. “That I didn’t have anything going for me, so I had to pay for my life. That they were just going to take it from me, like I’d been taking from them. A-And I couldn’t refuse them, you know? I didn’t know they were bad people until they locked me in their basement and made me –“

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t finish his sentence, couldn’t let the words go. They had been unforgivable, and he had been vulnerable.

They took everything from him.

“What did they do.” Jihoon’s voice was curious. It was emotionless, but curious.

Soonyoung shook his head. He could no longer feel his hands, clenched so tight the sensation in them had gone cold and eventually numbed away. “They sold parts of me to different people, every night in that basement.”

They hadn’t all been the worst things he’d ever thought of. The rare, tame ones had just been to carry out mundane tasks for lazy businessmen. But the worst ones were always the most terrible, the most common. With them, he payed with his body and his mind, until he could no longer feel anything, until he was no longer alive on the inside, until only grief remained in the countless scars on his body.

He shuddered at the wave of memories.

Suddenly, overwhelming triumph washed over him. He’d made it out by himself – saw an opening, took a chance, made it out. He’d freed himself of the shackles and ran away. Being on the run was the only thing that had given him his sanity back.

He was no longer the seventeen-year-old boy that had been falsely cared for, and he definitely was not the vulnerable, helpless ghost he was when they had him.

He was Soonyoung again. And he had found people who wanted to give him a place to stay.

Jihoon stepped forward, angling himself towards the shadows. Soonyoung could barely see him in the dark, but he could see the boy scrutinise him.

“And you made it out.”

Soonyoung’s breath trembled when he let it go. “And I made it out.”

Jihoon regarded him with indifferent eyes. After a beat, he cocked his head. “What do they want from you.”

“Everything,” Soonyoung whispered.

Jihoon was silent. For a moment, Soonyoung was sure there was anger in his eyes – a flash of hot, flaring fury, a tiny furrow in his brows.

“I will make a deal with you, stranger,” he said.

“What?”

He frowned mockingly. “What did I say about repeating myself.”

Soonyoung shook his head in disbelief. “Is this meant to be a joke to you?"

Jihoon tutted. “Don’t be so quick to discard me. I think you’ll find I have something you want.”

Soonyoung scowled, taking a step forward. The space between them began to riot with rage, the air heavy with an iron tang. It was like he could taste blood on his tongue, though none had been spilt; just boiling under their skin, begging to be.

“What is it you want from me, Jihoon? What is it you have against me?”

Something changed then. Jihoon paused, blinking. His face gave nothing away, but his eyes had changed for the briefest of seconds – confusion? Surprise? Soonyoung didn’t know, and it was gone before he could begin deciphering it.

“I want nothing,” Jihoon deadpanned. “Especially from you.”

Shaking his head, Soonyoung sneered, “I am not the bad guy yet you're antagonising me when I have done  _nothing_."

Jihoon regarded him with a dismissive nod. “Is your temper always so easy to flare like this?”

“Only when it’s you.”

He smiled, clipped and cold. “Perfect.” He took a cigarette out of his pack but didn’t light it. Instead, he tucked it behind his ear, and closed the gap between them. “Don’t mistake this for kindness, stranger. I do not consider you part of my family. For now, you’re a danger – _ha!_ Stranger danger, get it?”

Soonyoung grimaced as the other’s heartless laugh sent a chill up his spine, crawling along his skin. “Fucking funny.”

“I am.” Jihoon shrugged. “But details, details. My deal is simple. In exchange for my protection, I want you to give me truths when I ask for them.”

Despite himself, Soonyoung’s eyes widened. It wasn’t what he’d expected – the words _protection_ and _truths_ did not suit his relationship with Jihoon. He’d expected a threat or blackmail.

“I don’t understand,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Did I stutter,” Jihoon hummed. “No, I don’t think so. You’ll want this, so I’ll start it off for you –“

“You gain nothing from protecting me, so why?”

“Don’t interrupt me,” he scolded, scowling. “This isn’t for your benefit – it’s for my family’s. Until you figure out how to stop your demons from coming after you, I will watch your back. All I ask is for you to answer when I ask. Do I have your understanding or does your pretty little head need another explanation?”

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am,” Soonyoung shot back. “The only thing I don’t understand is what protection you could offer me – and why you’re even offering it to me in the first place.”

“Ask me the right question and I will answer the first one. And the second I’ve already explained. For my family, that is all.”

Growling, Soonyoung felt an angry vein on his temple throb. “Will you please stop being so fucking cryptic? Be straight with me, Jihoon.”

Face darkening, one side of Jihoon’s lips curled into a smile. “I’m never straight, _stranger_. Now shut up,” he said. “You don’t drink. I want to know why.”

It was a mild request, but Soonyoung found his anger ebbing into hot confusion. “That’s it?”

Jihoon nodded simply. “The little details are needed to paint the bigger picture. Answer me.”

Soonyoung ran a hand through his hair and down his face in frustration. “I don’t like it. The taste, the way it brings out the worst in people. I have nothing but bad memories of alcohol.”

A hand tipping a bottle to his mouth, another holding an icy glass to his bare skin, days spent recovering from the hazy, disgusting aftereffects. Memories that threatened to easily pull him down under; memories he would not let destroy the new foundations he’d built from scratch for himself. They had taken advantage of him, but he’d run away to take his sanity back from them.

Not wanting to hand them over to Jihoon, he waved them away.

The latter’s face gave nothing away while he considered it. “Unexpected, but interesting nonetheless.”

“What about you?” Soonyoung challenged.

Jihoon shrugged. “I never said I’d exchange them with you. You may ask anyway though. I particularly don’t care. But I won’t bother if they’re silly questions so you'll want to choose carefully.”

Wondering what the criteria for a silly question was, Soonyoung tried to come up with topics to approach Jihoon with. Above all things, he wanted to ask why the boy was such an asshole, and who exactly he was to the people who knew him.

There were many things he was curious about. He wanted nothing to do with him if this was the way Jihoon was going to continue treating him, but he figured he at least wanted to understand who he was before he wrote him out of his life.

“What is Seungkwan to you?”

It was the only question that felt right in that moment. Every other question he came up with felt like ones Jihoon would masterfully avoid or answer even more cryptically. At least with the topic of Seungkwan, he could understand their relationship and what it was that made Jihoon put away his barriers for the boy.

Jihoon’s look of surprise was expected. “A bit personal, don’t you think.”

Soonyoung stared straight at him, attempting to mimic the latter’s signature smile. It was like wearing a mask that fit perfectly on his face, but the feel of it was wrong and unnatural all over. “I suppose two can play at that game.”

Barely blinking, Jihoon met his gaze. “Seungkwan’s never fought a day in his life. It’s not my story to tell but even with his ex-family, he never once stood up to anyone. He…needs more protecting than the others.”

Soonyoung nodded along, remembering Seungkwan’s words about him hating violence. “Does he – does he get into trouble often?”

“No. Not if I can help it.” Jihoon’s lips thinned. “The other night was a mistake. Trouble found him and I stepped in.”

“Why?” Soonyoung pressed. “Why do you protect them?”

Silence hung in the air between them for a few minutes. Briefly, Soonyoung wondered how long they’d been out here, wondered if the others were looking for them. He even wondered when he'd begun feeling more comfortable out here with the person he butted heads with the most than back in the club where there were people to hide behind.

Jihoon audibly swallowed. When he spoke, his voice came out raspy and hollow and it was the most vulnerable sound Soonyoung had ever heard come from him.

“Because their lives are infinitely worth more than mine. Because I am wiling to give up mine so they can live better than how they did before.”

And it wasn’t just the most vulnerable he’d ever sounded, but also the most he’d ever _looked_. There was something raw in his eyes, something awful and unforgiving in them and no matter how much Soonyoung blinked to see if he was simply seeing things or not, he could not erase the look of them. Even when Jihoon composed himself, hardened once again into the same, lifeless being, he could still see it.

“That was more than one question. Know your place, stranger,” Jihoon told him bluntly. “I’m done here.”

Soonyoung swallowed, nodding slightly. He’d toed the line of Jihoon’s limit. Any other time, he’d angrily protest at the dismissal, but not this time.

Jihoon walked past him without a word, and he didn’t turn around to watch him budge open the doors to see how he’d get back in.

He thought he’d understand the boy a little bit better, but it felt as if he’d hit another one of Jihoon’s walls. This was a vulnerability he hadn’t meant to show, hadn’t meant to touch upon.

Soonyoung wondered if it was worth feeling triumphant over him. Jihoon had promised him protection – all he had to do was abide by the rules and give truths whenever it was demanded from him. That, at least, was something he was willing to give away. Anything, because he was so desperate.

He stood in the miserable light of the back of the club listening to himself breathe. The steady ebb and flow, the musical beats, the miraculous fact he was breathing at all – these were reminders that he was here and that he was alive.

The smile on his face as he began climbing over the recycling containers was an unfamiliar one; roaring and euphoric. Climbing over the fence to the back road had him feeling giddy, laughing to himself.

He had achieved _something_ tonight.

It took him two hours to find his way back to the house, but he didn’t care. He was feeling more high than tired.

The smile never left his face, even as he settled down onto the living room couch to sleep. It was one he thought Jihoon would be proud of.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are going places my friends!! slowly but surely 
> 
> i’ve outlined the rest of this fic to make it easier for me to write and update more frequently, and i think it’ll come to around 17 chapters (for reasons u know ;))! each chapter will probably vary in length as i’m Not Good with consistency..but i love writing long lengths and some have told me they do too so i am ;;; happy!
> 
> i’m making way with chapter 5 now so i’ll hopefully be able to update soon after this! thank you so much for reading and commenting, it really means a lot to me <3


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soonyoung knows there's more to Jihoon than meets the eye, but he can't tell if he wants to know or if he should stay away once and for all. But right now, the only thing he wants to focus on is repaying Seungcheol and his family's kindness. He's had enough of debts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while, i know! i apologise for the lack of updates for this fic and behind the scenes. i assure you i am dropping neither~ it's just been a rollercoaster these past few months but i am here to take control of the chaos again.
> 
> here's a lil recap: at the club he bartends at (ooh la la), jihoon makes soonyoung a deal. he'll protect him if the people who he's running away from are still out there, for the sake of his family, if soonyoung will give up his truths in exchange whenever jihoon asks for them. and so they come to a small deal. though soonyoung can't decide if he trusts him or the deal yet, it's all he has.
> 
> thank you to all who's reading this fic! i promise you it'll only go up from here heheh upside down smiley emoji wink wink

Soonyoung jolted to a hand gently shaking him awake. Seungkwan’s grinning face came into focus once he blinked the sleep in his eyes away.

Sitting up, he looked around. Sunlight seeped through the living room windows, flooding the entire room in its bright glow. He remembered falling asleep on the couch not long ago, but he didn’t know if much time had passed since then.

“What time is it?” he asked, facing Seungkwan.

The boy took a seat by his feet, laying his head down on the seat of the couch. “Almost twelve. The others came home alone last night and found you here, but they said not to disturb you this morning. Are you feeling hungover?”

Soonyoung shook his head. “I didn’t drink.” After a second’s thought, he added, “I don’t drink, period.”

Seungkwan yawned into the long sleeves of his plaid shirt. “That’s good! Makes for more of us then. Maybe we can form a football team or something, play for kicks. We can bet on Jihoon hyung’s sobriety.”

Jihoon and the issue of alcohol wasn’t something Soonyoung doubted but hearing anything about the others and how they viewed it intrigued him. All he knew were Jihoon’s passing comments about himself, Jeonghan and Wonwoo. Which reminded him –

“I thought Wonwoo was sober.”

Seungkwan nodded, looking at him with a smile. “He is. Over a year now.”

Soonyoung frowned. “Then how come he went to the club last night? A potential trigger?"

“It’s like his way of dealing with it,” Seungkwan replied after a moment’s consideration. “He’s okay being around it now – compared to Jeonghan hyung, anyway, he still can’t stand the sight of alcohol – but facing it head on helps him. You know, facing your demons head on and the like.”

Nodding slowly in understanding, Soonyoung asked, “Is Jihoon really that bad?”

“Not _extremely_ bad,” Seungkwan continued, forlorn sign escaping him. “We just wish he’d stop, or at least slow down. He’s like this but he’s the one who helped out Wonwoo hyung when he wanted to get sober.”

“ _Jihoon?_ ”

Soonyoung figured there shouldn’t have been much about Jihoon that surprised him anymore. They hadn’t known each other for long, yet two nights and long hours felt enough. He supposed it was down to their conversations. As cryptic and infuriating as Jihoon was, their conversations were always somewhat meaningful.

Seungkwan hummed in reply, nodding. “He stopped drinking for a week and a half to help Wonwoo through his initial withdrawal, then he took him to a rehab centre. It didn’t take long – hyung has really strong willpower – but it didn’t stop Jihoon hyung either. God, those were a rough few months.”

“And Jeonghan?”

Smiling, the other boy shrugged. “He’s a completely different story. He was here before most of us were, so I don’t know much about what he was like back then, but I know it was Seungcheol hyung who made him get help when it got really bad."

Soonyoung wondered if he should ask more, but then berated himself when he realised it would be nosy and inconsiderate to try and get it all out of Seungkwan. Still, he made a mental note to try and figure the others out. Perhaps by asking them directly.

He entertained the idea of asking Jihoon about them, but he knew he wouldn’t give up their stories; too loyal to his family, too wary of Soonyoung.

Sighing to himself, he shook the thoughts out of his head; they could wait. “Don’t you have class today?”

“Not today.” Suddenly, Seungkwan let out a gasp, sitting up excitedly. “I almost forgot –” He grinned at Soonyoung. “We’re going shopping today! And Jihoon hyung wants to leave soon, so you have to get ready.”

Soonyoung felt his stomach turn. Shopping meant going outside and being around other people. Jihoon tagging along meant a lack of peace of mind.

After last night’s conversation, his desire to explore their town was next to none. He’d be out in the open, his face roaming free. What if someone saw him – what if, by chance, someone _recognised_ him, remembered him?

 _No_. He couldn't think like that. Always thinking of looking over his shoulder, always thinking about the eyes that fall on him.

But there was  _Jihoon_. He’d promised protection. He’d _promised_ to watch his back. Surely that was the reason why he was coming along. Soonyoung couldn’t imagine him willingly agreeing to a shopping trip, of all things.

Hesitantly, he nodded, getting off the couch. Looking down at himself, he realised he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

“I’ll shower quickly,” he told Seungkwan, who just nodded and sprawled himself on the couch where Soonyoung had slept.

“Just come down when you’re ready!”

 

Jihoon was already in the car, holding a lit cigarette out the window. Seungkwan slid into the passenger seat, leaving Mingyu, Chan and Soonyoung to pile in the back.

It struck Soonyoung as a random combination when he saw the other two boys walk down the stairs, but Seungkwan had explained they were the only ones not in class or at work today.

“We can have Mingyu hyung teach you the ropes about fashion,” Seungkwan said cheerfully, angling his head so the back could hear him.

Soonyoung frowned. “Why would he need to do that?”

His question was drowned out by Chan’s loud whine, the boy sat in the middle leaning forward to prop his head in between Seungkwan and Jihoon. “Hyung, please, please, _please_ let me drive?”

Jihoon snorted, taking one last drag before throwing it onto the ground. “Over my dead body, Lee Chan.”

Chan leaned his head on the edge of Jihoon’s seat. “So…when?”

Jihoon revved the car engine and swatted the boy’s face away. “Fuck off, I'm immortal. Shut up before I pull you out just to run you over.”

Sulking with his arms crossed over his chest, Chan threw himself back into his seat. Mingyu snickered at him, teasing him under his breath, but the former rolled his eyes and kept silent.

Soonyoung watched with confusion and interest, wanting to ask what that was all about but remembering he had to keep his curiosities to himself for now.

Chan’s spirits eventually lifted again along the way, sparking up an animated conversation with Seungkwan about their music tastes. Mingyu suggested they turn on the radio, but he and Seungkwan started fighting over the choice of stations. Jihoon ended up settling the argument by turning off the radio completely.

Enveloped by the silence, Soonyoung took to watching the scenery outside the windows change. Houses lined the streets for a short time until the grey was replaced with spots of green and signs directing drivers to all kinds of directions.

Jihoon tore down the motorway wit furious speed, but this apparently bothered no one as the others remained relaxed in their seats. Soonyoung felt stupid for holding onto the safety bar, but it wasn’t going to stop him. Jihoon was dangerous as a person _and_ as a driver, he reminded himself.

He dropped them off at the shopping centre’s entrance before saluting to Seungkwan and driving off to find a parking space.

Once he was out of sight, Soonyoung’s chest lightened.

“What are we shopping for?” he asked as they walked in.

“Didn’t Seungkwan tell you? We’re shopping for your clothes.” Mingyu hung back, matching his pace. Seungkwan and Chan were excitedly talking to each other, their hands flying in gestures as they strolled ahead.

Soonyoung’s jaw dropped. “M-me? Why –“ He stopped himself before he could stammer any further. When Seungkwan led them into a clothing store, he took a deep breath in and tried again. “I don’t need any.”

Mingyu gave him a funny look, eyeing him up and down. “I’m not trying to insult you or anything, hyung – but those clothes…aren’t right anymore.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Soonyoung shot at him, feeling his cheeks warm under the scrutiny. He looked down at his outfit. He was wearing a shirt he could trust and a pair of jeans that had a few more holes than his best pair but were still wearable.

Shaking his head and directing him to a rack of jumpers, Mingyu sighed. “Everything. You have to let us do this, okay? Seungcheol hyung said to buy you a new wardrobe.”

Soonyoung’s blood ran cold. “I can’t let him do that.”

It meant another debt – more that he knew he wouldn’t be able to pay back Seungcheol for, at least not for a long time. The thought was a heavy weight that replaced the one that Jihoon often occupied on his shoulders, on his chest. He just wanted to place to stay – he was going to figure out how to pay the man back for the shelter one day, but an entire wardrobe?

“I can’t,” he repeated.

Mingyu waved him off. “He’s fine with it. He did the same for us when we came to him without anything. Just let him, alright? He wants to take care of you.”

“I haven’t got any money on me,” Soonyoung told him miserably.

“That’s not a problem. Hyung is a very wealthy man.”

“I can’t _not_ pay him back –“

“Trust me, it’s fine,” the taller boy assured. He began looking through the racks, ignoring Soonyoung’s constant protests.

Seungkwan eventually came over with Chan, the two of them holding a few pairs of jeans in their arms. “I think he’d suit light wash denim jeans a lot,” he said.

Mingyu took the top pair in Seungkwan’s pile, his lips quirking in thought as he considered them. “He’s got a pretty good physique that looks good in anything. Get a few pairs of light and dark, then. And maybe two pairs of ripped jeans to replace the ones he’s already got.”

Soonyoung tried to cut in between them, but Seungkwan gave him a short smile that said _leave this to us_ and he found he couldn’t refuse him.

Chan walked back and forth the jeans section to them, holding up pairs for Mingyu to look at. The latter took a shirt off the rack, trying it out above a pair.

Soonyoung couldn’t remember the last time he’d bought clothes. The ones he had on him were a few outfits he’d managed to scavenge before his escape. He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember wearing anything else but them, always washing them in random high school changing rooms or in the sinks of public bathrooms so he could reuse them over and over again.

The feel of a new pair of jeans was burdensome. The heavy denim was just another heavy brick on his back.

But it was not entirely unwelcome. It made him feel guilty, knowing it would be difficult to pay Seungcheol back, but it also made him feel different, in a good way. _New,_ almost; reinventing himself anew.

“How many do we have now?” Mingyu asked the other two.

Soonyoung stood off to one side as they debated his new wardrobe in front of him. He had no idea how to go about choosing clothes so he’d decided to leave it up to them. He supposed it helped that Mingyu was a model.

Chan counted the pairs of jeans he’d been handed, counting them under his breath. “Five here.”

Mingyu nodded. “Okay, let’s go with this.” To Soonyoung, he smiled. “These okay?”

Soonyoung nodded sheepishly. “I only need one new pair, you know.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’ll let you live with just one!” Mingyu gasped, shaking his head in disbelief. “You need new ones. That's right - _plural_. Preferably ones that aren’t ripped from so much use.”

Soonyoung clamped his mouth shut, not having anything to add. Seungkwan took the jeans from Chan and Mingyu before making his way to the cash register. Mingyu hung back to continue rifling through the shirts on the rack, Chan beside him pointing out ones that looked good.

While they bickered over their own tastes in fashion, Soonyoung looked around the store. It didn’t look like anything special – just a bunch of mannequins advertising jeans and jumpers that all looked the same to him, some wearing shirts with the same designs but in different colours. He couldn’t imagine himself wearing them, but he had to trust in Mingyu’s choices.

When they were done, Seungkwan led them outside, turning to Mingyu. “He needs clothes to sleep in. And underwear and – god, he needs everything.”

Soonyoung frowned. “I’m fine with just the jeans. I don’t need anything else.”

Seungkwan’s eyes widened as he shook his head adamantly. “Hyung, just because you don't _want_ anything else doesn't mean you don't need them. And please...you need them.” He turned to Chan. “You and Mingyu go upstairs and get the essentials. Buy him some spare clothes just for the house too, okay? Jesus – buy him anything. Everything, if you need to.”

The two boys laughed, nodding. Mingyu glanced over at Soonyoung and said, “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

The only thing Soonyoung worried about was how much they were going to buy and how much it was all going to come to.

He nodded shortly. “Thanks.”

Seungkwan swung the bag by his side as he waved when they left. Then he nodded towards another store across the floor, smiling. “C’mon,” he said, “Jihoon hyung’s waiting for us.”

At the sound of Jihoon’s name, Soonyoung’s frown deepened. Seungkwan rolled his eyes at him but dragged him along with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Why is he even here?” Soonyoung muttered.

“I asked Jihoon hyung to drive us,” Seungkwan answered, still smiling.

They found Jihoon waiting on one of the benches outside the store. Soonyoung almost let out a laugh – the entire shopping centre was bathed in shades of cream, white and sunlight shining in through the ceiling windows. Jihoon was dressed all in black, from his hair to his shoes, and he only realised it now, but Soonyoung found it _funny_.

He kept his laugh in, however, not wanting to start anything with the boy.

Jihoon got to his feet when he saw them approach, nodding when Seungkwan waved at him.

“Where are we going now?” he asked the latter.

Jihoon walked in front, leading them through the crowd. Seungkwan leaned in and replied, “Hyung and Chan have your clothes covered, so we’re buying you shoes!”

Soonyoung pursed his lips. He thought about arguing against it, telling Seungkwan he didn’t need any more – but he knew they weren’t going to give in. They were planning on reinventing him from head to toe.

They spent a shorter amount of time looking for shoes than they did shopping in the clothes store. Seungkwan shoved shoes at him from left and right – obnoxious, bright-coloured pairs that hurt his eyes whenever he so much as glanced at them. But apparently Jihoon understood this and ended up picking out pairs that were the exact opposite; all black, all plain.

Soonyoung didn’t exactly dislike the fact that Jihoon had better taste in shoes than Seungkwan did, but it did alarm him that he found himself _appreciating_ the fact that they had similar, if not the same, tastes.

Jihoon didn’t say a word as he held up pairs for him, which he’d either nodded at in approval or shook his head in refusal. In the end, Jihoon picked out three pairs of shoes – all in black, two a pair of sneakers, one a pair of boots, and Soonyoung found them all to his liking.

Seungkwan carried the boxes over to pay for them. Soonyoung had asked earlier what they were using to pay for all this, and he’d told him that Seungcheol had given them one of his credit cards. It was the most daunting thing he’d heard all day, and even now the voice in the back of his head nagging at him to come up with ways he could pay him back lingered.

He was alone with Jihoon on one end of the store, sitting on cushioned seats provided for customers to try on shoes. Soonyoung made sure he left more than a few inches of room in between them to keep himself at ease.

“Why didn’t you want Seungcheol to know about last night?” he asked. He’d been going over last night’s events when he wasn’t overthinking the shopping thing. It only struck him now that Jihoon hadn’t wanted the man of the house to know of their particular whereabouts.

Sitting with his elbows rested atop his knees, staring straight ahead, Jihoon said, “I can only deal with so much of that man’s badgering in one day.”

“What about Seungkwan?”

Jihoon tensed. “What about him.”

“You didn’t want him to know either.”

“No, I didn’t,” he hummed. “He would’ve begged to come along, too.”

Soonyoung nodded, understanding. He’d wanted to protect him – again. “Wouldn’t he stay away anyway, especially after the other night?”

“He likes being outside,” the other answered simply, as if it answered everything. It didn't answer anything at all, and it frustrated Soonyoung.

“He knew about it this morning, though. He mentioned it when he woke me up today.”

“Oh, stranger. So talkative about matters that don’t concern you,” Jihoon chided, tutting. “It only mattered before I asked. It didn’t matter earlier. He knew why, and he understood.”

Soonyoung had nothing to say after that. Seungkwan seemed to be a touchy subject, one that teetered on Jihoon feeling pestered about or endeared. He settled for the silence, the slow hum of the store and its customers fading into the foreground.

Then after a while, Jihoon spoke again. “Seems permanent now, doesn’t it.”

Soonyoung sighed wearily. “I don’t know how Seungcheol can just do this.”

“Don’t fret, stranger. He’s actually smart with his money.”

“But he’s spending it on _me_.” He shook his head. “How am I supposed to pay him back?”

“Why,” Jihoon considered, “with your life, I suppose.” He laughed when Soonyoung tensed. “Too soon, stranger?”

“Fuck off,” Soonyoung gritted through his teeth. Turning away, his eyes searched the floor for Seungkwan. The boy was placing the shoe boxes into a large paper bag, talking animatedly with the cashier.

Jihoon stood up, walking away. Soonyoung watched him go until he stopped and angled his head to the side.

“Come along, stranger. We don’t want you getting lost out here, do we?” He gave Soonyoung a mocking smile before walking again.

Soonyoung considered shoving him into the shelves, but then he remembered they were in public.

With a scowl, he shot up and followed.

 

When the others got home later that evening, they scattered all over the place. Jihoon took Seungkwan and Hansol outside somewhere when the boys asked, Wonwoo had put on his helmet after class and left for his part-time job on his bike, Mingyu and Minghao had another modelling gig, and Jisoo took Chan and Junhui for errands.

The only person who remained in the house was Jeonghan and him.

Soonyoung locked himself in the library for a while, needing the space away from everyone. He’d had a tiring day, despite not having done much. When they’d returned home from shopping, Mingyu and Seungkwan had taken the bags upstairs to Jisoo’s room for him before going about their own businesses.

He still didn’t have a proper room to sleep in. He’d slept on the couch last night and in Jisoo’s room the other night, but he still didn’t have his own bed. He thought about asking, but he hadn’t seen Jisoo all day except for when he came home after work, only to leave again a few minutes later.

It wasn’t until much later, when he heard the front door open, that it struck him. He should ask Seungcheol – because he was the man of the house. Because he was the next person he trusted, if his twisted sense of trust would let him.

Soonyoung left the library for the kitchen. It had swung closed slowly after Seungcheol had gone in, which told him he was in there.

Jeonghan was too, he quickly found when he walked in. With his arms around Seungcheol’s neck, their faces so close together Soonyoung was sure there was no empty space at all between them. His eyes widened –

“Shit,” he muttered clumsily as the door closed behind him; there was no escape now.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan broke apart with surprise, but it was Soonyoung who blushed the hardest.

“Fuck, sorry, I –“ he stammered, diverting his eyes everywhere else but directly at them. “I – fuck. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

He wanted to melt into the walls, wanted the floor to swallow him up. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment – but Jeonghan was giggling.

“Oops,” he said. There was a sound of clothes ruffling and shoes squeaking on the floor.

Berating himself, Soonyoung repeated, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Seungcheol mumbled through what sounded like a laugh. “Hey, look.”

Scratching his nape, Soonyoung slowly lifted his gaze. Seungcheol and Jeonghan were no longer breathing each other in, but they had an arm around each other’s waists, Jeonghan’s head on the other boy’s shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to barge in,” Soonyoung muttered, trying to look at their faces and not anywhere else, his humiliation a fire blazing in his cheeks.

Seungcheol smiled, shaking his head. “No, it’s alright. You weren’t barging in on anything when the kitchen is a public place.”

Soonyoung tried to smile. “I didn’t realise you’d be in here too,” he said to Jeonghan.

The latter was unconcerned, beaming at him. “Someone has to make sure this bastard eats after working overtime.” He must have pinched Seungcheol’s side or something because the latter squirmed out of his hold, angling his body away from Jeonghan.

Again, Soonyoung felt like he was intruding on something. He hadn’t even known – hadn’t even _thought_ – that any of the boys’ relationships delved deeper than just simply housemates. He knew they were friends, but he didn’t know they were _more_.

It made him think back to all the times they’d been in one room together. There hadn’t been much indication that any of them were anything more – except for Jisoo and Jeonghan, on the first night Soonyoung had stayed.

He’d definitely heard Jeonghan telling Jisoo he missed him. It only confused him even more.

He glanced over to Jeonghan, who was staring at Seungcheol with adoration, the warm smiles on both of their faces telling of the way they felt about each other.

Soonyoung chewed on his bottom lip. “I thought you and Jisoo were a thing.”

Jeonghan didn’t just laugh – he guffawed. Seungcheol, too. The entire thing made Soonyoung feel very much out of his depth.

“Jisoo’s my best friend. We’re all just...very close.” The matching wry looks on their faces told Soonyoung that this wasn’t just it, but he didn’t feel like asking them to elaborate.

“I hope this is okay,” Seungcheol said after a while.

Soonyoung was taken aback. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Seungcheol gave him a smile of relief. "Just needed to be sure.”

It had been so long since Soonyoung witnessed a sincere connection between two people. It was pleasant to see the two of them like this, albeit in the unfortunate circumstance of barging into their moment. They seemed at home, completely belonging in each other’s arms.

He’d never felt it himself, whatever it was. Truthfully, he’d never cared for it. It wasn’t something he looked for or craved. It wasn’t anything that struck him as desirable. He’d only ever known survival and the desperate need to keep going.

Jeonghan went about the kitchen cleaning and putting things away while Seungcheol heated up a bowl of stew in the microwave. When they sat down on the long dining table, he joined them.

“I want to get a job,” he said, sitting up straight in his chair.

Seungcheol chewed a mouthful of stew before fixing him with a surprised look. “A job? Why?”

“To pay you back.”

“There’s no need – I don’t need any more money.”

Shaking his head, Soonyoung focused on the tablecloth. “I don’t want to be a freeloader. I’m not. This is a debt I’d very much like to pay along the way.”

Seungcheol sighed. “I’m telling you, I don’t mind. I don’t like talking about it, but my family is quite powerful.”

“Stop bragging,” Jeonghan teased.

His lover flashed him a look before turning back to Soonyoung. “I’m serious. I have all the money I need, and I make enough on top of it. You’ve lived a hard life, Soonyoung. Let yourself rest.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders dropped. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to take that offer. It was that he’d had enough of making reckless debts concerning his life. This one, he was going to pay off. Whatever it took.

It was very much different to before. Seungcheol wasn’t demanding anything, and he wasn’t taking anything from him without asking, either. He was offering, suggesting, hearing him out before making decisions.

He looked at Seungcheol with determination. “I’m staying, and I’d like to work my ass off to deserve my place. It would be more burdensome if you didn’t let me.”

Jeonghan reassuringly squeezed Seungcheol’s shoulder, addressing him. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Fine,” Seungcheol grunted, frowning. “But know that even when you find a job, you can quit any time and you’ll still have a place in my house. You don’t need to do anything to deserve it. It’s yours.”

The ache in Soonyoung’s chest swelled; a good kind of pain. For a moment, he felt like crying. But he knew he was stronger – this kind of triumph didn’t suit tears. It suited a smile.

So he did. He looked at Jeonghan, then Seungcheol, and then the both of them together. And he smiled.

 

Jeonghan gave him Jisoo’s room that night, telling him it was okay, Jisoo normally slept in his room while he slept in Seungcheol’s. The three of them apparently had an agreement between them, but Soonyoung didn’t know what it was exactly.

He didn’t care anyway – as curious as he was, it wasn’t any of his business. What he did focus on instead was the familiar yet strange setting of Jisoo’s room – now, he supposed, somewhat his own.

This was a comfort he’d never known; this was a comfort he was now allowed to feel.

But he couldn’t sleep. As magnificent as it was to have warm, soft sheets and pillows surrounding him, he still tossed and turned for an hour. He ended up climbing out of bed and making his way downstairs in his new pyjama joggers and the shirt that Mingyu and Chan had bought for him earlier.

His feet led him to the back garden, slipping through the living room doors leading outside. The string lights were lit, illuminating his path through the hedges. He ended up on a bench propped up against one side of the house, letting out a sigh as he pulled his knees up to his chest.

Out here in the dark, he could breathe. There was a calm in his veins that kept his heartbeat and breathing steady.

Out here, nothing bothered him. His mind was blank, and he wasn’t thinking of anything in particular, just admiring the silence and the yard lights embracing him, and he was – if he dared say it – _happy_.

Contented.

It was peaceful like this for a long, relieving moment. Until he heard the soft rustling of grass off to one side, and his limbs jolted into awareness.

“Fancy seeing you out here, stranger.”

Jihoon was barefoot, the long hem of his pyjama bottoms grazing the grass. His black shirt almost blended in with the darkness, but his skin was pale enough for Soonyoung to see his entire silhouette.

He emerged from the other side of the house, perching himself on the arm of the bench. Soonyoung consciously lowered his feet back to the ground.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he muttered.

“Shame,” Jihoon said flatly.

Soonyoung pursed his lips. Things between them _had_ to change. Jihoon may be most uncooperative person he’d ever met, but he knew there was more to him. Each of their encounters paved way for a different layer of him – and he had many of these.

Jihoon promised to protect him. Soonyoung just had to find a way to bear his presence.

“Do you ever sleep at all?” he asked.

“That’s a good one.” Jihoon’s laugh was an awful sound, grating on his skin. After a moment, he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket and lit it. Soonyoung watched it flare, a flaming cherry dangling from the edge of his mouth.

Jihoon took a lengthy drag and blew a cloud of smoke to the moon. “I’d offer you one if I liked sharing my things.”

Soonyoung scoffed. “A bit redundant. I don’t smoke anyway.”

“Oh?” Jihoon cocked his head, tapping his cigarette. “Do we have a preacher of purity in this house after all?”

He hated the reminder, but the memories came to him anyway. Men dressed up in suits, cigarettes and cigars between their fingers, Soonyoung bathing in their toxic clouds of smoke. Once, one had gone overboard and seared his skin with the butt of his cigar. It had only been for a second, but the remains of a scar were still etched into a spot on his hip.

He shuddered under the cold chill of his thoughts.

“Nothing but bad memories,” he whispered, frowning at the stick in Jihoon’s fingers.

The latter glanced at him, blowing smoke sideways. “You have a lot of those.”

 _I have nothing_ but _those_.

Apparently done, Jihoon stubbed out his cigarette on the bench before flicking it onto the grass. Soonyoung watched as it bounced away, glad it was gone.

“For some reason, I was foolish enough to give you more than you asked earlier,” Jihoon started. “But let’s say I gave them to you on credit. Now it’s time to collect.”

Soonyoung wasn’t going to argue. Tolerance, he thought, was what he needed to learn with Jihoon.

“I want to know what your life was like before the big, scary baddies took you in.”

His forehead creased. He was desperately running from his memories yet Jihoon was chasing after them. What good they did him, he didn’t know.

“I was bounced from foster house to foster house,” he told him.

Jihoon hummed in acknowledgement. “How long did you live like that.”

“My entire life.” Soonyoung sighed. “I don’t remember when – just that I don’t remember having parents.” He didn’t remember much beyond the past three years of his life; vague and grey and gone. Wisps of memories evaporated into despair. There was nothing left of them.

Silence stretched into heavy minutes between them. Soonyoung stared at the grass where Jihoon’s cigarette had ended up while Jihoon sat still and said nothing at all.

Soonyoung was the one to eventually break it. “How long have you been a bartender?”

"A long while. Tell me why you didn’t call the police while you were in trouble.”

“I’m not big on figures of authority.”

Jihoon scoffed. “This guy. Apparently, everything is associated with bad memories. Will anything ever get a break? Find out never, folks!”

Soonyoung swallowed, ignoring the jibe. “Teachers, police…even the old ladies who run grocery stores. They look at you differently once they learn of your background. In their world, children like me are hopeless.”

“We are all hopeless. It is them who are scum.”

“I take it you always end up on the wrong side of authority?”

Jihoon turned his head to give him a humourless smile. “They’re not a fan of me.”

In the moonlight, he felt different. The hard lines of his faces were muted, the rough edges of his demeanour blurred. He was no longer antagonising, just as he’d seemed in the club. Earlier, he'd called himself _immortal_. But Soonyoung was seeing it differently now. Apparently, he was mortal anywhere else but inside the house.

Soonyoung searched his eyes. He wasn’t surprised to find them empty, but they still managed to burn with intensity.

“For my nineteenth birthday, they gave me tickets to a ballet,” he said quietly. “I don’t remember what it was, but I liked it. I liked to dance, way back when.”

He still did. It was another thing he refused to let himself think about, knowing very well it gave him a foolish kind of hope, one that could easily be tainted by grim memories. But he liked it. He was rusty now, having done more running than dancing, but if he let himself, he could picture long nights spent staying up in the attic, losing himself to songs playing on the radio.

Long before it all went to hell. Before they took the nights that had become his favourite away from him, too.

“I didn’t ask,” Jihoon replied.

Soonyoung shrugged. “Let’s say it was given on credit.”

Jihoon broke eye contact, curtly looking away. His fingers drummed atop his thigh, a fast, fidgety beat. “I don’t have to answer now.”

Standing up, Soonyoung nodded. He approached him slowly, creeping closer and closer until he had Jihoon’s attention once again.

“I know you don’t,” he told him, leaving a foot of space between them.

Jihoon’s hand stilled. He watched him with a glare. “No longer the rabbit, stranger?”

“I’m not running anymore. I’m going to find a job and help out at the house. I’m staying here.”

“Sounds an awful lot like you’re talking to yourself,” Jihoon said flatly. “So desperate to survive?”

“I’m desperate to live.” Soonyoung hardened his heart and stood his ground. “If we have a deal, I don't want there to be shit between us. I want no trouble, Jihoon. I’m not a danger.”

Jihoon scowled, turning his head away. “You are to me.”

Soonyoung dared to take another step forward. They were close enough now that he could step on the other’s bare feet if he wanted to. And he did, just this once, but he knew it would shatter the illusion of civility between them.

“I have dealt with worse,” he said. “I can tell you have, too. Let’s make this easier on ourselves and just agree to be on better terms with each other."

“Your sudden vigour for life astounds me,” replied the other. "I cannot tell if you are naturally stupid or just an adrenaline junkie for recklessness."

Soonyoung shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just like what you always say. It’s not for me, but for the family. Am I right?”

Jihoon shook his head. “If you think calling yourself one of us because the rest of them have accepted you makes you part of my family, think again. My concept of trust is thinning by the second just looking at you.”

“Just as I will earn a place at Seungcheol's house, I will earn your trust.”

Soonyoung grinned at him, stealing one of Jihoon’s looks. He didn’t feel so weak in this moment. For the first time, he felt like he was on the same level as Jihoon.

“I have your protection and you have my truths. Sooner or later, you’ll have to let me in.”

Jihoon stared at him coldly for a few, silently seconds. Soonyoung revelled at the way his newfound motivation fuelled his confidence. He had not been lying – he was desperate to live. This was a wave he needed to keep riding.

“Get the fuck out of my sight. I don't have to let you do anything,” Jihoon growled. He turned his head, scowling down at the grass. Soonyoung waited for him to violently strike at him, but as time passed, he didn’t. Instead, he stormed away. The smell of cigarette smoke breezed behind him; an awful stain on an awful boy.

Soonyoung was still wearing Jihoon’s smile on his face as he watched him go.

 

A new day brought Soonyoung a step closer to accepting his freedom, as cloudy as it was in his head. An entirely new wardrobe and a bed in a house of troubled souls, allowing himself to be sat in the middle of it all, told him he was moving forward.

It was the only way he could live now.

 _Stop looking behind you. Keep moving forward_.

“Can I get a ride with you?” He ran down the stairs in his new pair of light denim jeans and a jumper Mingyu had yesterday said would go with them, hurrying to catch up to Jisoo and Jeonghan before they left the house.

The two boys turned around simultaneously. Jisoo smiled warmly at him, nodding.

“Where to?” Jeonghan asked, grinning.

Soonyoung didn’t have a single clue where to start when it came to looking for a job. He’d never had to. Jobs found him, but they were the of the cruellest kinds. He shuddered the thought away.

“Just wherever you’re going. I’ll take it from there,” he told them.

Jeonghan had insisted on Soonyoung taking the passenger seat, but the latter had refused. He was going to earn his way to deserving it, he thought. Everything in the house with its family, he was going to work on deserving it.

 _No more debts. We settle and keep moving forward_.

“If you can’t find anything today, don’t worry about it,” Jeonghan said as Soonyoung climbed out of the back seat. “The café’s right at the end of this street so just come look for me if you need anything, okay?”

Soonyoung nodded, smiling gratefully. “I’ll see you later.”

With a salute, he watched as Jisoo left to drop Jeonghan off at the front of the café before making his way around.

He’d seen his fair share of busy streets. Although he’d spent most of his days hiding in alleyways and his nights cruising around random convenience stores for an opening to steal some food, he’d never gotten the chance to really appreciate the view around him.

Open verandas for the florists, cafes, bookstores. Restaurants with employees advertising their menu and brand outside their own front doors. Couples on dates, families strolling along the busy roads holding hands.

Such an unfamiliar street in an unfamiliar town where he was safe to be a stranger. He no longer had to duck his head down and hide behind tattered clothes. He was allowed to be part of the crowd. He was allowed to have this freedom. 

The anxiety of his strange and new surroundings, however, was still enough to make his palms sweaty and his breathing ragged. In order to get a job, or even ask around about one, he’d have to talk to someone. To actually go in and ask. 

Before, he was terrified of being recognised. But now, he's reluctant to approach anyone at all.

Seeing was enough. To him, looking around and being present here was enough. But what he needed to do was to find a job – he knew he had to be more proactive, but it was just one of the many skills and things he hadn’t used in so long.

Soonyoung spent hours walking around the same three blocks, peering into windows, pretending to be reading the menu, admiring the carefree lives of the people around them as they went about their day. He hadn’t brought any money – barely had any to begin with – so going in and buying anything was out of the question. But he found himself content with just looking.

There were no signs advertising they were hiring, so before sun went down Soonyoung decided to check the buildings inside the more discreet alleyways. There were always things to be found in the nooks and crannies of all places, he thought.

A Japanese restaurant tried to drag him in at one point, smiling enthusiastically as they boasted about their food. Soonyoung, startled, had ended up snatching his arm away and running for it.

It led him to another alleyway, hidden beneath muted neon lights. A large metal door that took up an entire wall stood off to one side, open with a truck reversing out of it. As he walked towards it, Soonyoung could hear voices and loud thumps.

Curiosity got the better of him. He moved closer, careful to walk around the truck.

He could see around five men hoisting large boxes, which seemed to be heavy by the looks of their strained faces, from the truck onto a crate by the door. Two of them worked together to lift a box from the back of the truck to hand to the others, the entire group grunting with effort, their faces dim and red all over.

It wasn’t until one of them had stopped, straightening after putting a box down, that he realised he’d been slowly moving towards the door of the warehouse.

“Are you lost or something?” The man asked, the grim lines of his face accentuated by all the moving strain. He was burly and covered in dust, his cargo pants powdered white and grey.

Once he stopped working, the rest did too.

Soonyoung’s eyes widened in surprise at himself. “N-no –“

“Got any business being back here?” Another man asked, wiping his nose with his hand. He let out a disgusting snort and spat on the ground behind him.

Slowly pacing back, Soonyoung shook his head. “Sorry, I was looking for something else.”

He felt the air prickle with hostility as the five of them cocked their heads at him, crossing their arms over their chests. The one furthest from the door stepped forward, about to say something.

But the truck driver poked his head out of the window, and said, “I don’t have all freakin’ day.”

With the eyes of a hawk, one of the men regarded Soonyoung with a scowl. “Your bones break easily, kid?”

The other four men turned to their co-worker. Soonyoung, confusedly, shook his head.

“Then stay and help out or get the fuck out of here.”

He hesitated. He had no idea what they were doing, apart from moving heavy boxes and glaring at him threateningly. Who they even were, he had no clue. Just strangers doing stranger things.

“I need money,” he told them, throat dry and voice croaky. “I need a job.” His hands were positively gleaming with sweat, he knew it.

The men huffed, cracking their knuckles and rolling their necks before getting back to work. The same man who spoke to him nodded.

“Then get to it.”

Soonyoung also knew he should stay out of trouble, keep out of danger. He was always running away from it only to run directly into it.

But he was the son of trouble. He was never going to truly escape from his maker, anyway. The only people he had to fear was the devil himself and his many men. This paled in comparison. This, albeit hesitantly, was something he knew he could fight if he needed to.

Perhaps it wasn’t his best idea. Especially not with Jihoon’s warning, that the family come first before him if it came to being targeted. But Jihoon didn’t need to know about _this_.

He’d earn money quietly and pay Seungcheol and his family back quickly. The rest, he figured, he’d figure out later.

Soonyoung hurried towards the truck, reaching his arms out with them to lift a box from the back. It was the heaviest thing he’d ever carried, the strain of it electrifying his unused muscles. He was a runner, not a weightlifter.

Later, when the truck was empty and the crater was full with its contents, Soonyoung turned to the men and bowed.

“Not bad, kid,” one of them said. “Got the job done faster with an even amount of hands.”

Soonyoung nodded, keeping his head down. His jeans were light enough that he couldn’t see the same dust on the men’s trousers, but his hands were powdered and sticky.

Despite it, he was smiling. A product of some hard work.

“Decent pay but gruelling job. It’s off on the side, so it’s quiet. Think you can keep your mouth shut if you’re up for it?” The man from earlier asked.

He nodded, hoping he wasn’t revealing how desperate he was for this. His only goal was to pay back the family.

“Come by at five tomorrow night and we’ll figure the rest out.” He held out a hand for Soonyoung, who took it slowly.

Dust came up in a small cloud of smoke around them. Soonyoung exhaled in relief.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Just keep your mouth shut, kid,” the other man grumbled. “I’m Park. You answer to me before anyone else, got it?”

When their hands slipped away and Park waved him off, Soonyoung started making his way out of the warehouse.

He did it. He’d found something. A small triumph – it was a sign that things were looking up. He was going to get there in the end.

 _Stop looking behind you. Keep moving forward_. He reminded himself of these once again as he walked through the alleyway and back onto the streets. It was still so lively, a hub of buzzing lights and unfamiliar faces.

Soonyoung smiled to himself. Strangers, just like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is up with 95 line in this fic anyway :)
> 
> this fic is my baby...i plan it out as i go along because there are things that i write that require writing and reading in between the lines ;) with all the planning i've been doing, i've also come up with many side fics for jihoon and the members in this verse. this is rly my baby ;___; 
> 
> pls stay tuned for more hehe <3


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